Was 2011 a great year for film? Well, yes and no. It certainly was much better than last year’s crop of freshly-laid turds, many of which made me question my continued desire to live on a planet that allows January Jones to have a lucrative TV and movie career.
The oversized LCD numbers of the alarm clock which read 4:21. Their eerie green radiance mocked me as I dragged myself, zombie-like, out of bed and into the shower. As the hot water splashed on my face, I had to put all thoughts of royal suicide and lack of decent sleep behind me, because today was no ordinary sit-in-a-cublicle day. Today I was going to my first “major” Con, and my first Con as a member of the Geek Press. Today was New York Comic Con 2011 day.
It’s not that Spider-Man 3 is a terrible movie, but watching it is like getting drunk and sleeping with a good friend that you’ve known for years, then waking up the next morning to that unspoken, incredibly uncomfortable awkwardness. You both know that things got weird.