I Call Bullshit (Movie Edition)

This is movie season and I love movies.  However, movie people — writers, producers, directors and such — keep making storyline mistakes that just drive me crazy.  And these aren’t those little esoteric anachronisms that Internet nerds wet their pants over.
(“In Back To the Future, are we expected to believe that Marty McFly can play a Gibson ES 345 guitar in 1955 when they weren’t even produced until 1958?”  Guys!  Relax!  You’ve already accepted the premise that Doc. Brown built a time machine!)

No, it’s not dumb crap like that.  It’s major plot devices that are just plain wrong — good old-fashioned, common-sense wrong.  And I’m 100% certain that movie people know they’re wrong, and they either think the rest of us are idiots, or they don’t give a tinker’s dam what we think.  Let me demonstrate.

Defibrillators do not revive the dead.  Any first year medical school student will tell you that when the patient’s little beep machine goes flatline, the guy’s dead.   End of story.   Nailing him with 50,000 volts isn’t going to bring him back to life; it’s going to cook him!

There is no oxygen in space — none.  Therefore, regardless of how many times you hit the alien ship with phasers, lasers, blasters or proton torpedoes, it’s not gonna explode.  Explosions need oxygen.  Without oxygen, you’re breaking Einstein’s First Theory of You’re A Dumbass.

Airport security doesn’t work that way.  You cannot leave your car parked at the front door of a major international airport and go running across the concourse, chasing the girl of your dreams.  If — IF? — the cops don’t shoot your ass, the best you can hope for is you’ll be tackled by two (or more) burly security guards and get a Full Monty cavity search at what’s commonly called an “undisclosed location.”  And they’re definitely going to tow your car — and probably blow it up in a controlled explosion.

Nobody gets that high.  I don’t care what Seth Rogen says; smoking marijuana will not leave you passed out on a beach, in a different town, holding a koala bear and wearing nothing but a hockey helmet and your girlfriend’s underwear.  Smoke that much dope and you’ll end up hopelessly interested in the length of your toes.

Computer hacking doesn’t work better if you type faster.

I’m no expert, but having sex with your bra on has got to be uncomfortable.  Plus, how horny do you have to be not to take 5 seconds to unhook a bra — especially given the obsession our society has with breasts?  (Just sayin’!)

And there are tons more.  Don’t even get me started on what guns can and cannot do.  But my very favourite is:

Anybody who’s ever driven to work in a major urban centre will tell you a high-speed car chase through the streets of London, Paris, New York, Los Angeles or Lincoln, Nebraska is impossible — not just improbable — impossible.  There are too many cars and not enough roads.  In fact, the average speed in any major city is under 15 kilometres an hour (10 mph in the USA.)  Now hear this, James Bond, Jason Bourne and Ethan Hunt: if you’re at all serious about getting away from the bad guys, try a bicycle!