Conspicuous Acts of Cultural Consumption

So last night I watched Death Race, which disappointed me by being adequate for a film built around stunt-driving rather than the dire mess of a film I was hoping for. Cars went grr, machine guns went bang-bang, there were explosions everywhere, and the most interesting aspect of the story gets his head caved in by a passing machine-gun barrel travelling at 90 mph far earlier than he should have. Exactly the kind of stunt-porn I needed last night, really – dumb enough that I could shut down and watch it, with enough blank spots in the plot that I’m still thinking of ways to redo the story and have it make sense twelve hours later.