LFF: Inside Job

Side Note: blah, blah, blah, sorry, been busy, blah, transcribing, blah, deadlines, blah, blah, blah, blah, who cares? Blah.

The last day of LFF brought some hurried running around as I desperately tried to cram in everything I possibly could. Since I'm abnormally obsessed with documentaries, I had to catch Inside Job, a doc written, produced and directed by Charles Ferguson that's had praise heaped on it from every festival and critic imaginable. The critical acclaim is not misplaced as Inside Job is the kind of perfectly balanced and eye-opening film on the 2008 financial meltdown that Michael Moore wished he made.

Split into 6 parts including 'How We Got There' to 'Accountability' it's well thought out, challenging, interesting, entertaining and absolutely enraging. If you don't already hate bankers, this will no doubt help fuel your fury.

Speaking of fury, I have to share what happened towards the end of the film. This was a public screening and apart from a woman who pissed off an entire row by trampling all over them to get to the loo (just hold it) and a lady with some abnormally loud snacks, they were all very well behaved. Until about 80 minutes in when two men causally walked in and, of course, decided to sit next to me. I was already annoyed because they wandered in as the film was wrapping up (WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT?!) but that wasn't enough.

The guy next to me started texting...then talking...then fidgeting...then pushing against my arm like it wasn't on the arm rest...then zipping and unzipping his pockets and generally behaving like a loud, annoying cunt. What has happened to the standards in the cinema these days that people are allowed to come in 80 minutes late and ruin everyone's good time? Apart from all of that, you know what really pissed me off? He applauded at the end. Bitch.