Bad Teacher. Having seen the trailer, and there being not much else out at the time, a friend and I thought we’d chance a matinée showing to fill in a few hours between loutish drinking in our city’s lovely gardens and heading out in the evening. So the film starts, and it’s nothing but concentrated averageness. Diaz figures out JT has some money dawns some hot-pants & washes cars, keeps trying to woo him… then the credits start?
Turns out there was a lot more to the story, but I had fallen asleep after 25 minutes, only to be woken up by a sharp elbow to the ribs, end credits rolling, and the phrase “that was pretty bad”… I guess it could have been the effect of two Henry Weston ciders, but I believe it’s more likely to be my acute narcolepsy; which is triggered by watching terribly shit films (this has happened one other time).
Alternative plans: my subconscious had clearly decided that sleeping would be more productive than sitting through this. Pre-town powernap!!!