john carter (of mars) (an inner-child’s review)
Knowing that I was unlikely to enjoy John Carter but that I was going to be seeing it anyway I had already toyed with the idea of reviewing it as a series of childish drawings before serendipity lead me to find a self-portrait I drew at the age of six for the peculiarly British weirdness of having classes of primary school children immortalised on tea-towels… My folly lent the weight of synchronicity I pressed ahead, and decided to let my six year-old self watch John Carter instead, whilst I astral-projected my adult mind into the Mariana Trench to look for new kinds of life…
This is him:
And this is what he wrought:
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THE END
(AND YES, MY INNER-CHILD IS INTERMITTENTLY PRECOCIOUS…)
I love this! It’s much better than the film, which I’ve seen.