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.

Sandra Bullock should stick to what she knows. I'm not entirely sure what that is, but it's not romance. Sandra Bullock is about as romantic as a wicker basket full of assholes. And since she's been doing these weird time-travel romantic chick thrillers, it's never been so obvious. The only way that they can approach believability with Sandra in the romantic lead is if they cast her alongside an equally robotic co-star, and those are hard to come by.

Premonition is just an exhumed and dusted-off re-hash of her last movie The Lake House, in which she had some kind of time-travel romance with Keanu Reeves. Now she's doing the same thing with Julian McMahon, a made-for-TV actor who has rocketed to the big screen after his role as a man made of metal in the Fantastic Four movies, a role he nailed due to the fact that he actually is a robot. This time, Bullock is trapped in some kind of Groundhog-Day-esque time vortex in which she's living seven days of a week in non-chronological order, and apparently she's seen too many movies herself, because at no stage does she express any form of shock that this is happening.

"Well, yesterday was Tuesday and today is Friday," she seems to muse, "Damn, that's confusing. I'll have to take notes. Oh, what's this? My beloved daughter's face is covered in scars and stitches today, and nobody seems to know how it happened. Oh well, back to washing the dishes." I don't know how I'd actually feel if suddenly time started running backwards or skipping days or dead people started coming back to life, but I don't think boredom would be one of my emotions. But Sandra Bullock's character seems to handle this unlikely predicament with little more than mild frustration and vague indifference. She's much more hung up on the suspicion that her dead/alive husband may be cheating on her than she is on the fact that she's stuck in a fucking time warp.

To make things worse, Peter Stormare is on the cast, and he has a look on his face like he's constantly trying to figure out what the hell he's doing in this movie. Stormare always has an incredible screen presence, but there's no actor on Earth less credible as a psychiatrist. Isn't a psychiatrist's entire job to put people at ease and make themselves seem friendly and inviting? When Peter Stormare slinks into his office with his leather jacket, steely eyes, three-day growth and harsh Iron Curtain accent, he doesn't exactly radiate that friendly demeanour. He looks like he's never more than three inches away from shanking out Sandra Bullock's eyes and taking a shit in the hollow sockets. Oddly enough, try to watch this movie and you'll feel the same way.