Christian Bale - No Salvation

"Do you want me to trash your lights? Do you want me to trash your effin' lights?" Not the most convincing or sinister of threats; in fact a rather cissy and milksop excuse of a hissy fit. Nonetheless an ill judged and pretentious tirade. Frankly, a wildly generous philanthropic gesture of Bruce Wayne proportions couldn't restore the damaged reputation of Mr Bale now. What of the films director ? What say you, Mr McG? A deafening silence. It would appear that the living tissue over his metal endo skeleton conceals one missing but vital element : a spine. Not a word of castigation for our self absorbed protagonist. Massively paid film actors are beyond reproach and too terrified to call Bale's bluff, McG (wasn't he Madame Cholet's hubby in The Wombles?) cowers into his panaflex lens. It's one thing to chide someone for wandering onto set during an emotionally charged scene, another to smash up their fluorescent tubes. Christian Bale is so big for his boots that there is now only one course of action; send a cyborg back in time to teach the punk some manners.