Tuesday is the one day of the week that I can actually afford to go to the movies, thanks to cheap ticket day at my local moving picture projection house. So on Tuesday I tend to go a little nuts, which is surprising considering the fact that most movies these days suck inordinate quantities of dick. Still, it's the only way that I can find to escape my day to day life, which is on average considerably worse.

That's good news for you however! Because thanks to the magic of the internet I can warn you ahead of time so that you don't make the same mistakes that I frequently do. So without further ado, here's the list of all the shit I subjected myself to this week.

Hollywood has a new gimmick: Get people to pay as many times as possible to watch one movie, by splitting it up into a whole bunch of chapters. There's nothing wrong with that in theory, but in practice they seem to have a lot of trouble actually writing enough content to fit the nine-or-so hours worth of footage they need to shoot. That pirate movie from 2002, which was actually pretty decent, is the latest to fall victim to the milk it for all it's worth bandwagon. And the results are like a magnitude 400 of catastrophic suck.

With a decent editor, Dead Man's Chest and At World's End could have been a single movie, but instead they opted to split it up into two films, each packed with as much useless filler as they could possibly brainstorm. By the time the last movie rocks around, there's nothing left to say. It's like paying an extra fifteen bucks so you can read the last ten pages of a novel you just bought. To make it seem more epic, and to justify the three-hour running time, they just threw a bazillion new characters into the already convoluted plot and tried to flesh them all out like they matter. What that means is you've got like six villains, all of them operating on their own motives, and twenty swashbuckling Errol Flynns. And by virtue of the fact that they're all pirates, nobody's working together or even like each other.

Very quickly I lost interest in trying to figure out who's deceiving who and with whom and why, or who's on which boat and when, or who's working with whom and fighting with whoever else. There's an octopus guy and a sleazy midget entrepreneur and a cockney assassin and Geoffrey Rush is back from the dead and there's a Jamaican voodoo chick made of crabs and a monkey and Orlando Bloom and an Asian guy and a bunch of pirate kings and an ugly white chick and one of the Rolling Stones and a parrot and Orlando Bloom's dad and a rugged lieutenant and they all have something to do with whatever it is that this goddamned movie is about. I yearn for the simplicity of the first film, good pirates fighting bad pirates. The worst thing is that Johnny Depp's poncing crazy drunk guy character, which is really the only reason anybody's watching these movies to begin with, gets precious little screen time to make room for all the other boring wankers and their life stories.

And talking about Depp, I think it's about time for him to move on to the next eccentric character role. Yeah, it was fun to begin with, but after a while you find yourself screaming at the screen "Okay!! I get it!! You're a fucking pirate!! I understand!! Shiver me timbers!! Jesus Christ!!"

Oh hooray! Another indistinguishable feminist rant to remind us that men are still exploting women. Throw in some allusions to racism and a cultural superiority complex and you've got yourself a movie, folks. It's the biopic of Kiranjit Ahluwalia, a Punjabi woman who killed her abusive husband in 1989 by napalming him (!) while he slept. Her subsequent imprisonment was the unfortunate product of a British legal system that hates women, especially foreigners. Her story is told through two hours of activists shrieking at white lawyers in high-pitched, broken English, and a big fat bulldyke with bad teeth punching things for no reason other than the fact that she's a big fat bulldyke with bad teeth who doesn't understand the value of friendship.

Okay first of all, who decides to murder someone by setting them on fire? That's an interesting if sadistic slip of rationality. The fact that he even died can be attributed to his stupidity alone, running through the house shrieking like a girl for ten minutes. I've known the fundamental concept of 'stop drop and roll' since I was able to talk, though admittedly I think I learned it from a McDonald's sponsored public service announcement, in which Hamburglar fell victim to some kind of combustion accident (assumedly after brutally raping his wife) and Ronald McDonald had to show him how to calmly save himself from ironically becoming a pile of crispy burger meat.

I think though that Feminists need to take a step back and think about what they're really asking for when they plead for sexual equality. After all, Ahluwalia's real problem was that she fell victim to equality. The courts didn't recognise that the severity of her crime was in any way different for the fact that she was a woman. Ultimately, her case brought validity to the concept of "Battered Woman Syndrome", which recognises that, yes, murder is different depending on what kind of genetalia you have.

Really, though, you can replicate the experience of watching this bland, forgettable movie by simply finding a picture of an Indian woman looking sad, and staring at it for two hours. Better if you have a sound byte of screeching brakes that you can play on loop to simulate the sound of the actresses' voices.