There’s a geeky twelve-year-old boy inside of me that just starts drooling at the promise of huge spectacle movies based on the treasures of my childhood. I seriously remember tingles running through my body during certain movie trailers. Sometimes my inner geek-boy’s anticipation is paid off (as by all but the last five minutes of the Lord of the Rings trilogy) but sometimes his hopes are crushed (as by all but maybe the theme song and Yoda fighting in the Star Wars prequel trilogy.)

But lately, Inner Geek-boy is just getting annoyed. Please, Hollywood, stop it. Leave my memories alone for a while. Give me new stories to enjoy. (Knocked Up made it’s money back in one weekend, in one country. Know why? Because it didn’t cost an amount equal to the GDP of Bolivia to make. Plus it’s funny and original. Please consider that business model. Employ more comedy writers, and the world will be a better place for everyone. Or at least for comedy writers.)

I have absolutely no tingles for the new Transformers movie. The art design looks horrible. Why does every straight line need to have eight curvy spikes coming off of it? And if that’s the choice they’re making for the look, what must they have decided about story?

Bleck. There goes any hope I might have had (not that I did) for the He-Man remake. And Warners greenlighting Thundercats? That’s just stupid. Inner Geek-boy is done. (Although if they decide to make a movie out of M.A.S.K., I’m there.)

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