mini review: V for Vendetta

As a rule, we're too cheap to watch movies in theatres (that's the way they spell it down on Bay Street in Emeryville), but to reward the 16-year-old for catching up on his homework we went and saw V for Vendetta.

The new theaters theatres are lovely, with stadium seating and all. You don't spend two hours craning your neck to see around someone's head, and the seats are so plush and comfy you can just nod off when the movie slows down a little and wake up refreshed.

V for Vendetta, by the Wachowski siblings (who brought us The Matrix and its descendants) is set in London, in a future not so remote but decidedly dystopian. The government has imposed ten o'clock curfews and other restrictions "for your protection" (sound familiar?). Winston Smith Evey is rescued by, held captive by, and eventually convinced by a mysterious masked man, Morpheus Zorro V. V is shrouded in mystery®, but it transpires that he has, and we all have, ample reason to distrust, fear, hate and overthrow the current regime.

There are explosions, fireworks, lethal assaults on tyranny and other targets, and lots of balletic violence, blood included at no extra charge. In the first half, there are enough spot-on digs at the current slumlords leaders of England and the United States -- plus a beautifully spot-on English Rush Limbaugh clone -- to warm this old lefty's heart. The second half drags a bit, and there are a couple of plot turns that defy belief, but the fireworks save the day. More or less.

Does good triumph in the end, or does Big Brother Emperor Palpatine Chancellor Sutler strike back? No spoilers here. Let's just say that after leaving the theatre and strolling down the Emeryville Bay Street mall, I felt like I'd been sold a revolution, super-sized, with a side of fries and a giant Coke.