Edge of Darkness

Woke at 9am knowing that Edge of Darkness will have finished downloading. Insatiable lust to see Mel Gibson's face looking angry fills heart and have barely rolled the day's first cigarette by the time credits roll. Flatmate Johnny has already left for work and other flatmate Tom is AWL. Decide to forgo what I usually do when found alone in the flat which leaves impossible to deny conclusion that I feel more strongly for Gibson than I do my own carnal satisfaction.


Revenge saga explodes through front door of Gibson's house and his Boston Irish accent can barely keep up as he embarks upon bringing down go-to-company-owner-who-wants-apocolypse Danny Houston. Conduct online research into whether this film made a profit and am disappointed to learn that total domestic gross did not out-measure budget, which could be anywhere between $60 million and $80 million (as imdb does not agree with boxofficemogo).


Before everyone starts dying from Gibson gun and/or radiation poisoning, a bing sounds on laptop that means The Wolfman has finished downloading. Uh oh. Gibson keeps my interest because now he's really angry so a defection to del Toro does not occur on VLC player.


Come close to crying but embarrassing final walk towards bright window with Gibson and Gibgirl signifying afterlife staves off this urge. Realise upon deeper thought and reevaluation of mind's eye that Gibson has been wearing a crucifix throughout whole film and that this is all potentially masturbatory papal propaganda. Feel cheated by Gibson once more. Know as fact that I would have enjoyed this even more than I did had I watched it a decade ago. Realise this happened when I watched Ransom on VHS in my parents' living room one night after school. Also realise that I downloaded Ransom a few months ago and was disappointed. Realise that Edge of Darkness has contributed nothing to cinema. Continued self-discovery imparts new found wisdom that I have, after all, been touching myself...