Wolf Creek

So, yesterday I watched the film Wolf Creek. I give it one star out of five, the category of films I like to call "At least it's not the Wicker Man". (The Wicker Man being the most famous resident of my personal Hall of Zero Stars, along with such delights as M. Night Shyamalan's Signs, Birth of a Nation and The Ewok Adventure. (Sticks and rocks! Seriously, what were they thinking? THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN WOOKIES.)

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Watching Wolf Creek led me to some unfortunate conclusions.

1) If I am ever watching the supervillain tormenting my companion, I will not crounch behind something and look on wide-eyed while all the exposition gets done. I will take advantage of his distraction to crack him on the skull with a carbeurettor.

2) I will never leave the only weapon I have laying in easy reach of the seemingly dead villain. Instead, I'll take that rifle, give it to my rescued companions, and then use an axe or something to be "very sure" of the situation. (Note to film-makers, couldn't a scene where the mild-mannered nerd-figure flips out and gets fragments of skull and brain up to his elbows be kind of scary? I think it could.)

3) I hope never to fall so far in my strategic thinking that I formulate a plan of "I'll run in to the trackless desert, then stop and cry". That said, I am a tremendous coward when even slightly wounded. If I have holes in my arms I will probably steal a car and try to come back for you when I'm with the marines. Be strong, guys. Sorry.