I admit, I wasn't chomping at the bit to see the sequel to Pirates of the Carribean: Curse of the Black Pearl, but given the lineup at the cinema at the moment, it was the best of sad offerings.

Being the first Saturday screening in it's launch week, front row tickets were all that were available and, to tell the truth, if I'd been within cooey of the person buying my tickets I would've said "Let's do something else." but I wasn't so ended up underneath the massive screen at Berkley's hidious Botany complex. Okay, so it's not so hidious once you're inside a theatre (except that there's not a single cinema there where you can't hear the movie next door and the seats make you sit so your boobs stick out a bit far - that's the lumbar in the seat? that does that? or maybe I have an unconscious habit of forcing my chest front and centre given half a chance) but the foyer and ticket-buying experience of the place is one user-unfriendly pain in the butt.

And don't go thinking how nice those Moritz icecream cones with the drizzly syrup and the fancy waffle cones might be, because the amount of time you'll need to hang around the counter while some unco-ordinated Pakuranga high school student wearing latex gloves (they don't look hygenic) tries to roll the perfect icecream scoop in the most inefficient way possible, means even though you thought you were in time for the movie, you'll end up missing the first five minutes (that's even taking into account the pre-movie onscreen SPAM)

More high school students, ushers this time, on guard outside and inside the theatre policing the allocated seated session - as if anyone was gonna steal our seats. "Close enough?" I asked, staring up at the blank screen from our seats. The theatre was filling with the Eastern Suburbs brightest and finest. "You'll get used to the angle, just as soon as the movie starts." Yeh, right: looking up the nostrils of a fifty foot high Johnny Depp is exactly how I saw my night unfolding.

The old (no) style adverts for local jewellers, quality panelbeaters and the local Indian restaurant flickered one after the other on the screen "You know, if this was the Rialto, the movie would've started by now because when the Rialto says a movie starts at 8:15pm the movie bloody well starts at 8:15!" yeh yeh we know but this trend to show 20 minutes of poorly crafted adverts and television promos is just a bad idea all around.

I mean, come *on* - do I really need to see a Shortland Street trailer at the cinema? The world is going to Hell in a handbasket, I tells ya! (yells at some of the teenagers in the theatre to put their cardies on cos it's cold) (okay I didn't do that but I'm beginning to feel like a cranky old lady in a crazy world she can't understand) (actually the kids/audience were pretty good - no girls yabbering, no cell phones hearlding text messages, no continous cellophane rustling - it was a good crowd! I didn't have to growl anyone.)

Finally, the lights dim and the movie starts. I'm sure I must've blogged about the original Pirates, and I have no doubt I enjoyed it - I remember it being a rollocking good time. Rollocking. I slouched in my seat to try and get a good angle to view the towering sequel, and waited for my second rollocking.

Now, I really only have one word to describe this movie. Lumbering. The damn thing is like a big old sailing ship in open sea, hefting up over the swells, crashing down into the water with the deep thud of sea on hull - but not in a good way.

While the special effects of Davy Jones (not the Monkee) and his crew was really great and clever, it wasn't enough to keep my interest for long. The movie just lumbered on.. and on.. and on.. and on. I became so disinterested in the film that I actually stopped watching it, turned around and watched all the people illuminated by the light from the screen watch the movie.

I wanted to leave. I wondered what was on television. Thought about washing the nets in the lounge windows because they were looking a little grubby. My bum got restless. My legs kept stretching out. I fidgeted so much I was away of my fidgeting - are my arms usually need this much scratching? I watched along the row I was sitting in at all the people sitting on the floor, watching the movie while lying down. Considered it myself, decided not to cos I'd just then be lying down not enjoying the movie and lord only knows how dirty that floor'd be.

By the time the movie finally finished and the credits started to roll, I was up out of my seat with a "C'mon c'mon, let's go." Wondering why anyone'd want to read the credits or stay for any crazy monkey antics at the end of this particular waste-of-time. I didn't care, it even had a giant squid (a Kraken) thing AND pirates and I still didn't care. I wish I'd had the nouse to get up after 20 minutes and go ask for my money back.

Don't see this movie.