Skyline

I am quite partial to trashy sci-fi horror films but 'Skyline' tested my tolerance and that of other moviegoers who wasted a gloriously sunny spring afternoon to see it. Only four of us lasted to the end credits. Others started their exodus from the cinema less than twenty minutes after the opening.

The unfortunate burghers of Los Angeles are disappearing in a literal airlift performed by an air borne swarm of slimy mechanical animal-like extra terrestrials festooned with Christmas lights. Just another day in Hollywood, folks.

Fighting off this lot from the penthouse of a high rise apartment block is a group of wannabe 'actors' unknown (to me) uttering excruciatingly awful dialogue. I suppose if you are attacked by meccano like octopuses, jelly fish, monkeys and the like you are not likely to burst into 'To be or not to be...'. Even less likely if you are blonde and bear an uncanny resemblance to the character Brooke Logan from television's 'The Bold and the Beautiful'. Where is Ridge Forrester when you need him?

Strangely, only kitchen cabinets provide any protection against these creatures which otherwise deal with all manner of armaments from simple guns to Stealth Bombers with ease. I suggest that Andrew, living in his high rise Melbourne ivory tower, invest in an island kitchen without delay.

I did wonder near the end whether the extra-terrestrials were the Universe's revenge for television soap opera. This explanation for the events in the film are as likely as any other given that the creators make little...well...no attempt to provide any meaning.

In a sign of supreme optimism on the part of the producers, the film ends with the hint of a sequel involving a new type of slimy mechanical Spiderman-like superhero.