2 Lockdowns, 2 Furious
Everyone knows that sequels never live up to the hype. Take the Matrix Reloaded as an obvious example, or indeed Liam Neeson’s Taken 2. And such as art imitates life, we now have Lockdown 2; a sequel with lukewarm casting and confusing plot lines, directed by a cabinet with a weaker grip on reality than the wardrobe of Narnia.
The first lockdown was, to continue the metaphor, an infamous blockbuster. The first act saw us huddled around TV sets to be told that we’re grounded for 3 months, only allowed outside to fight over bread flour and the last over-ripe bananas. True to instruction, we also took to avoiding strangers like they could be undead zombies from 28 Days Later, The Walking Dead or E4’s Hollyoaks.
In the second scene we all became teary-eyed with the weight of the public thanks for our NHS. The incredible work they do was finally lauded by all of us by way of clapping on our doorsteps every Thursday and watching retailers throw discounts at them like PR-infused confetti.
But like all great original films there’s always a plot twist in the third and final act, coming this time (unsurprisingly) in the form of MP’s indiscretions. So, while we stayed at home playing with Sainsbury’s chessboard of home delivery slots, arrogant government aids were travelling up and down to their second homes like a giant game of cunts and ladders.
July 4th arrived as the end titles rolled on this Tolkien-esque feature film, and the UK had its own mini-independence. No longer confined to our own four walls, we all left our indented sofas behind and booked tables inside our four-walled local pubs instead. Shops opened, restaurants returned, and we dared to utter the absolute Voldemort of words: ‘normality’.
If we’re to pay attention to the frankly patronising Christmas adverts this year, society should have learned from our five months of isolation. But instead, relentless media outlets remind us how we’ve all turned the other cheek. Instead of giving a little love, spreading joy and being utterly thankful, we’re now apparently ignoring advice, spreading the virus and being utterly ignorant. But hey, you needn’t have been optically-gifted to have this 2020 vision.
Freedom lasted a mere two months, and while Scotland are now subject to more tiers than a Made in Chelsea bride’s wedding cake, England have opted instead for another blanket closure. We’re now into the summer of November’s month-long nationwide shutdown and it’s clear that we’ve followed the first three-act blockbuster with a straight-to-DVD flop .
So once more, we all huddled around our TV sets for a first act that told us we were grounded for a month. Needless to say, the plot of the infamously tricky second instalment was already blurred. Back in our indented sofas, the opening titles revealed that the restrictions for this flick are the same as before, so cinemas, restaurants and bars are closed, but this time schools and universities are open. No one knows why our leaders are battering the hospitality industry with a hammer big enough to give Thor a god-of-thunder-sized erection, especially while breeding grounds such as Lidl and ALDI are open 12 hours a day.
Can we meet others outside for a walk? Can we go to work? Can nurses still get 50% off an Indian takeaway? The answer to all three, during a time laden with more cases than ever before, was a resounding no.
The government have grounded us adults and given reign of the country to the youth, all at a time where GP’s go back to paying full price for poppadom’s while they arguably do even more to look after our nans.
What makes this film even more strange though, is that we have both the original cast and soundtrack intact throughout, so we can’t even blame our widespread confusion on a David Hasselhoff-shaped cameo. Boris is directing this sequel like a Poundland Chris Nolan, and the soundtrack is so old it’s more Zimmerframe than Zimmerman. As a result, we’re now way in the second act and witnessing neighbours bend the rules because ignorance is bliss, right?
With the majority of the population hidden behind paper masks, and usage spikes across every dating app, it’s hard to forget that we’re still very much in a pandemic. We really need Heath Ledger to step up and deliver a Oscar-worthy monologue to remind us that we are all walk-ons for this live-action sequel, facemasks are needed to protect ourselves as well as others, and that of course him at Batman are still figuring things out. It’s boring as hell pretending to your boss that for 40 hours a week, you’re giving your attention to Microsoft Excel and not Lorraine Kelly’s guest interview. But the longer we can keep ourselves healthy, the longer we stave off the possibility of a cliff-hanger that threatens a disappointing trilogy. Take Matrix Revolutions as an obvious example, or indeed Liam Neeson’s Taken 3.
If you’d had told us last year that a pandemic would start in Spring because of a mysterious bat man, and last long enough for us to welcome robins, we’d have said it was just a convoluted piece of superhero wordplay. Sadly though, it’s a reality that we should do well to remember is not over.
So, the advice for the final two weeks of lockdown should be to heed the warnings, stay indoors and remind retailers that the NHS are still worthy of the benefits and applause they were afforded in the first lockdown. It wouldn’t hurt to pray to your god either, to ask them for a sip from the glass of old times. Simpler times. Better times. Times where the term social distancing just meant avoiding people who call holidays ‘holibobs’ and openly watch re-runs of The Big Bang Theory.
