A friend let me borrow Oblivion this weekend, and although I didn’t loose my mind over it, I did appreciate the world they created for this sort of futuristic “mop up crew” that is Tom Cruise. That suddenly had me thinking why I borrowed the film in the first place.
Maybe it’s the all of the countless nights I spent nestled beside my dad devouring junk food (perfectly hidden from mom) watching films like Alien or Terminator 2. He’d always tell me to uncover my eyes at the most gruesome parts. Thanks dad, I never got over that alien popping out of that dude’s chest, I’m traumatized for life.
Or maybe it’s because I wanted to be just as cool as the boys running around with toy guns and their fists in the air yelling “WE RUN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD!” (Cue several oddly shaped scars and bloody knees). I remember falling in love with sci-fi at a young age and my love affair with the genre never died. It’s funny how some people feel the need to slap a label onto those who crave mystical creatures, futuristic cities and the vast black sea of stars. “Geek, nerd, Comic-con freak.” I welcome it with open arms though,
dodging stereotypes like Neo dodged bullets in the Matrix because I owe my larger than life imagination to sci-fi, and wouldn’t trade that for the world, or the universe, or deep deep space, or the Final Frontier…you get it.