I’m opposed to movie sequels. Politically. Ok, there are exceptions, otherwise life would be dull and I thrive on hypocrisy. The ONLY acceptable sequels are Kill Bill 2, because it really wasn’t a sequel, Godfather 2, because it was such a magnificent movie and in a way all 4 parts were just a serialised version of Mario Puzzo’s books. And, of course, Terminator 2, which is still mind-blowingly brilliant even after decades of advancement in special effects in the industry.

Otherwise, sequels are just a form of exploitation of the masses, which sounds a bit Marxian but its true. “They loved Die Hard, so just re-make exactly the same movie with a different back-drop and ‘they’ will love that too. And if they don’t, it’ll be too late because they can only make that decision on the way out of the cinema they’ve already paid to enter”. Cynical bastard movie-makers. The same ones who made Rocky 2, Death Wish 2 and Under Seige 2. And I really liked Under Seige (1) because it used Stephen Segal’s single facial expression (even Keira Knightly has 2) to great effect and lots of things blew up.

The Bourne series, with Matt Damon (coining it) as Jason Bourne were just following the books. I was in my serious Robert Ludlum phase (nineteen-seventy… something) when The Bourne Identity came out. Brilliant book. Followed by The Bourne Supremacy, The Bourne Holocaust, The Bourne Constipation, The Bournes shop at Asda and The Bourne Free. But the books were just as exploitative as the movies that followed. Though being books they tend to be judged differently and in a more hi-brow manner and thus are given licence to exploit and be repetitive.

Yet there is absolutely no excuse for making a sequel to Mama Mia. None whatsoever. Issa fucking song. Not even a particularly good song. On the grounds that Abba made it. And they spun a quite stupid tale around a song and used some really powerful A-listers like Meryl Streep and Julie Waters and Pierce Brosnan and so I went to see it. I was the only man in the place. And it was tragically, pathetically awful. Simply cringeworthy. Not in a Larry David kind of cringey way, more in a overly simplistic children’s tv type way that is embarrassing to see.

But because half the world’s women went to see it, they want them to go see another one, or even see if they can get the other half involved.

Lily James is in it, which would normally be sufficient to have me rushing to any movie theatre, but the thought of Pierce Brosnan (not-)singing again produces an instant repelling effect along with all the pre-release images which show that there can be too much happiness in the world. Too much smiling, too much… fucking Abba.

World Cup final? Wimbledon final?? OMG. No sequels there.

Happy final day

A xxxx