Dan Brown all finished. There's 4 hours of my life I'll never get back.
To be fair, while it won't win any prizes, was ok for a bit of escapist tosh. But to my mind the plot rang a bit hollow from an early stage. Nothing to do with all the wonky symbology, tanks of liquid oxygen and charging about in awe-inspiring buildings, no no. Bit more fundamental than that.
You see, it seems to me that the whole silly hoopla could have been avoided if those Masonic chappies had simply exercised a bit of due diligence. Before admitting a 6 foot 4, heavily tattooed, steroid freak eunuch into the holy of holies, a swift CRB check, couple of references, the game's up, pal.
After all, I have to go through all that crap if I want to drive the neighbour's kids to a football match.
Secret society entrusted with hidden knowledge of earth-shattering power? Wouldn't trust 'em to run a whelk stall.
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