Being stuck on crowded, sweltering public transport with a strawberry from your fruit salad caught in your throat and no water to wash it down, next to the mongiest village idiot smackhead who insists on slurring into your face about "that queer porn on the internet" and trying to shake your hand every other minute is an experience so unpleasant even Ned Flanders would emerge wishing for redemption in the form of ending up like Zac Hobson from 1986 New Zealand sci-fi flick The Quiet Earth, who awakens one morning to find that the entire population of the planet has vanished.
You'd be bored to tears of pure salt after a couple of months, but having the freedom of an otherwise people-less planet for, say, one month would be an immensely pleasurable experience : money would be rendered null and void so those 4 weeks would be one long orgy of free shopping and travelling, with a side order of snooping on all sorts of top secret antics you aren't usually privvy to.
Still, it seems that The Quiet Earth sparks rose-tinted fantasy of a fantasy thoughts not worth igniting if the Life After People series on the History Channel Brooker recommended in his saturday Screen Burn is anything to go by. The concept of everyone else vanishing for a bit is all fine 'n' dandy, but some of those everyone elses are responsible for keeping electricity working (crucial for British winter time where darkness is interspersed with a grey clouds and rain between 8:30 AM and 3:45 PM), and who'd have thunk the combined corosive properties of bird shit and rain could be more of a problematic potent combination than the loneliness and bewilderment which drove Zac to run into a church wearing women's lingerie with a shotgun and start blasting the Jesus figurine as he begs for a sign from God in The Quiet Earth :
EvilTube2007 (2 months ago)
Okay, so we have a New Zealander walking around in a dress with a shotgun, desacrating a church. What's so odd about that?
Bonus movie thoughts for the evening :
* Have you seen the state of Carrie Fisher in Sorority Row? She's comfortably resided in my top ten sexiest movie chicks ever list since the bikini scenes in Return Of The Jedi, but she's now less Princess Leia and more Gamorrean Guard. Pour out a little liquor for a former fantasy hottie of every 70s baby now forever extinguished.
* More damning evidence for my case which suggests the entire current British film industry (bar Gemma Arteton, Michael Sheen, Timothy Spall and Tom whatshisface who played Bronson) should be sent out into the most densely shark populated area of the Atlantic ocean on Roman Abramovich's new luxury yacht and then torpedoed : Danny Dyer's next shit mockney gangster caper stars none other than that noted thespian Curtis "Fiddy" Jackson :