Zac Efron must be mad. NO ONE touches Harrison Ford’s stuff!
What a depressing, stupid sentence.
Cowboys. Aliens. Bond. Han. Indy, for that matter. The guy who made Iron Man. The guy who made Iron Man 2. (They’re the same guy, FYI.) COWBOYS. ALIENS. If this film were a razor, it would have twelve blades, an Unobtanium handle, a cloaking device and an attachment which provoked shuddering orgasm in every woman within two miles. For a frantic, unashamed wet dream of a film, it’s quite watchable.
So after a wet and blustery June and a less than tropical July, it looks like August is going to be no better. So, rather than delay the inevitable, best face facts now: that barbeque is staying in the shed, you’re not going to get a chance to wear that bikini and picnic food tastes rubbish when it’s covered in rain. However, last time we checked cinemas are all rain free! Huzzah! Here’s your pick of what’s to come next month!
Mr T was born in 1952! But this film probably won’t be about that