Some crazy Basterds and some average Joes.

It was a cold, windy night, as I sat in my study, playing on the many useless distractions of the mighty interweb when, out of the blue, I receive a call from my eldest sister, who proceeds to, without a single breath, inform me, in a high-pitched-hasty-tone, that Inglorious Basterds was premiering in the beautiful city of Sydney and that Quentin Tarantino was going to be there, on the red carpet, and that tickets were selling fast. Well, in the words of the great Velma Kelly, I completely blacked out, I cant remember a thing, it wasn't until later, as I was printing off three, deliciously crisp tickets I even knew they were dead!

No one was dead. Don't get your knickers in a knot. But three days later I was walking down the red carpet, towards the entrance to the State Theatre when, low and be-bloody-hold, there, speaking animatedly to a journo, is my absolute hero, Quentin Tarantino.

You can't hate me if I wet my pants a little alright? There's no judging on this blog. So, I proceeded into the theatre after a little hyperventilating (in the completely stereotypical oh my god oh my god way) to have my mismatched socks completely blown off by his latest film Inglorious Basterds.

What an amazing film. I won't say too much though as I'm pretty sure there was some rule on the tickets saying I shall die a long and painful death if I utter even a whisper of the contents of the production. What I will say is, it was long, full of delectable, drawn out dialogue that only Tarantino can produce, equalled in intense, ear-splitting (in the best way possible), graphic action and too top it off featured some the greatest music I've ever seen accompanied with a film, and that's saying something, because I'm deaf.

I'm not deaf. And I have no intention to offend those who are. The film was amazing though and when it finally hits screens (more like sucker punches screens - followed by repeated stabbings in the chest and jugular - followed by several roundhouses kicks and finished off with double eye gouges) you must see it. Even the girls who hate violence. I mean, it's Brad Pitt, don't all girls just froth over the opportunity to see Brad Pitt act? Talk? Blink? Live a life in reverse, turning from an old, saggy man into a young, good looking boy, continuing onwards (or more like backwards) to the single sperm and egg we are all made from? (C'mon, you've all seen it...or guessed at least). So there.

In other news, I think I may have been right about GI: JOE, which was viewed by my eyeballs last night. Okay. Here's the breakdown. Sienna Miller was hot, stole every scene and fought like a feisty cat (and we like that okay?), Channing Tatum (the guy from all those fairy-boy films) was mediocre but that may be because the script gave the illusion (and quite convincingly) that three 7 year old girls had wrote it.

It was that bad. I tried to see the good in the film, I really did, but even the impressive chase scenes couldn't outweigh the rest of the film, which got progressively more unbelievable as the film went on. You have to see it though, its a blockbuster and not many come round a year. Truthfully I kept on expecting the vehicles to transform and start fighting. They didn't.

So, filming for The Room (go back a few blogs, 'tis my major work) is almost wrapped up and although being the sole organiser has been difficult, its has also been awesomely rewarding and fantastic. I can't wait until I can have professionals surrounding me, working as a team to make my ideas into awesome realities.

And believe you me, they will be awesome realities.

But as I am currently crushed beneath a billion tonnes of work (I managed to find my laptop and wifi to write this, and oddly enough I comfy cushion made from denim with a pretty little heart stitched - okay.) I must now begin to complete it (or at least set fire to it, peice by peice) so until next time; adios amigos.