Monday, 12 December 2011

Final Destination 5, dir. Steven Quale, wr. Eric Heisserer, st. Nicholas D'Agosto, Emma Bell, Miles Fisher

Benjamin Franklin once said, "In this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes and another Final Destination movie." Okay so that's a bit of a lie - if you own Vodafone, you can avoid taxes. Yes, as the deaths advance in increasingly inventive fashion, so the characters and narrative threads between them thin to gossamer strands. Fast forward to Final Destination 38 and I'm pretty sure it'll just be 100 minutes of back-to-back slayings. Either that or the carnage will have blown to such epically contrived proportions by then, they'll do a back-to-roots reboot à la Casino Royale in which one person slightly bruises from being hit with a shuttlecock or knocks their funny bone from walking into the boot-mounted bike rack on a parked car. Either way you can be sure Tony Todd still manages to wrangle a part in it, shuffling his pensioner frame on set, still delivering his dialogue with the same trademark subwoofer tones, and still spouting the same old bollocks about death not liking being cheated. It'll probably be released in 4D by then which will enable the viewer to watch every frame of the film simultaneously in 1/25th of a second, and instead of old-school 3D glasses and a screen, each cinema seat comes with a mini orbitoclast you jab into your eye socket and electronically deliver the film directly to your frontal lobes while underpaid ushers mill about the aisles mopping up the blood and inevitable soiling.