Sooo, I was wondering if, instead of interminable film sequels, there could be film hybrids. I think I may be onto something. To illustrate, a couple of examples.
To celebrate the acting versatility of Sandra Bullock, I give you the brilliant love child of frothy rom com Miss Congeniality and award winning tour de force Gravity - Miss Congenigravity.
Scruffy FBII (federal bureau of intergalactic investigation)agent wins inaugural Miss Pluto beauty pageant purely by brushing her hair and being seen buying a ladyshave.
As she sashays down the catwalk, she defeats the bad guys using only government issue mascara and an undeniable air of femininity.
Later she eschews a space suit (because her bum looks big in this) but goes on to mend the space shuttle while wearing a ballgown, the skirt of which serves as a parachute as she bravely re-enters the earth's atmosphere in time to collect a bravery award.
Bullock gets academy award AND cover of vogue, NASA consider issuing space suits with glitter and figure flattering tailoring.
Or how about a secret blend of rabble rousing socialist propaganda 'The Hunger Games' and dribble inducing film prozac 'Forrest Gump'.
Da da daaaaaa, all hail 'The Hunger Gump'.
When the village idiot is picked as tribute, he saves a nation on the verge of anarchy by simultaneously stunning and enchanting every citizen as he wins the games with a unique mix of stupidity and luck.
'Hunger is as hunger does' he drawls as he selflessly gives the delicious berries he has gathered to other tributes, then bumbles off looking lovably confused as they die, writhing in berry poisoned agony.
He plays fetch with the hounds of hell and roasts marshmallows in the fires of doom as Panem unites in Gump love.
Forrest later becomes president, largely because his campaign slogan- 'Life is like a box of chocolates' bamboozles the beleaguered masses who have never even heard of chocolate into voting for him out of confusion.
Life affirming, 5 stars say critics everywhere.
Healthcare is as healthcare does says Obama, slowly and in the manner of a retard, hoping to bamboozle his voters too.
Something more homegrown? What say ye to the saccharine morality of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, swirled with the grittily enjoyable politics of Billy Elliot.
I call it.
Billy WonkaSet in 80's Sheffield, as imagined by Tim Burton (so Sheffield as is but the houses are a bit wonky and there is a contractual obligation to include Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter).
Young billy cocks a snook at his impoverished working class family.
Not only does he insist that the child benefit is spent on dance lessons, when he finds a shiny ten pence, rather than take it home to his starving family, he buys a giant eccles cake which is so full of sugar that he collapses immediately into a hyperglycemic coma.
In this murky netherworld he imagines himself dancing around a sweet factory, waltzing with cola bottles and taking instruction from Johnny Walters, a white faced and effeminate dance teacher with a Brummie accent and irrepressibly no nonsense approach to life.
"A delight!" shouts a nation as it eats toffee and taps it's feet.
Meanwhile, in the afterlife, Roald Dahl drains his third whisky and wonders how a miserable and cautionary tale of greed and dysfunctional families could have been so woefully misconstrued as jolly and Maggie Thatcher sips a sherry and tries to remember if mines, unions and ginger hair was Pinochet and Falklands, dapper uniform and torture was Kinnock, or vice versa.
'The lady is not for turning' she says, although no one is listening.