Seven films for alpha males

THERE’S films for girls and weaklings, then there are films for alphas. If you’ve not watched all of these then you’re not one: 

John Wick

Beta males watch Joe Wicks; alpha males watch his stabbier, fightier, hired killer namesake murder his way through New York surviving several fatal wounds by gritting his teeth. Joe Wicks doing the same would be a treat, though.


Taken’s Liam Neeson famously has a very particular set of skills. Alpha males lull themselves to sleep thinking of what their particular set of skills are. Revving their engines and pumping out dance music while driving through built-up areas late on a weekday evening must be high on the list.


Horror porn is a big feature of an alpha male’s cinema consumption, and the gore doesn’t come more gratuitous than in Saw. Sawing off your own limb to escape from a trap? ‘Nowt mate’, claims the alpha to an audience that would happily sever their own ears to stop him talking about Saw.


A true alpha would have sorted that shark in less than a minute with a good solid punch in the conker. Any animal’s respect can be won with a sharp jab to the beak: rabid dogs, killer crocodiles, boa constrictors, people who look at their girlfriends, Remoaners, lefties, vegetarians.

Any Fast & Furious film with the Rock and Statham

The early Fast & Furious films only feature one musclebound baldie who believes acting is for cowards. True alphas reserve their admiration for the later movies, which have three. They drive home from the cinema in their VW Golf full of McDonald’s boxes and Costa cups knowing they could jump it off the dual carriageway flyover any time.

Fight Club

The first rule of being an alpha male is to talk about Fight Club. The second rule is to continue talking about Fight Club when everyone changes the subject. The third rule is to not really get the whole self-defeating anti-materialist subtext.

Raging Bull

As highbrow as it gets for an alpha male, directed by Scorsese, filmed in black and white, it’s the equivalent of an Ingmar Bergman festival at a wanky independent cinema. But with boxing instead of chess and rather than Max Von Sydow battling Death, it’s De Niro battling weight gain.

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Pissed middle-class women and four other things to expect at this year's Wimbledon

THE jewel in our summer sporting crown is back, and with it the usual marvellous sights that make us so proud to be British: 

Typically vile weather

What could be more British than your iconic annual sporting event being f**king ruined by rain every year? Remember when Sir Cliff Richard did an impromptu rendition of Wired For Sound? Thankfully now the main two courts have roofs it’s relegated to lesser games and Lewis Capaldi performing acapella.

Renaming a grassed slope

Any British player getting past the second round is afforded the privilege of a grassy hill being renamed for them: it’s been Henman Hill, Murray Mount, Rusedski Ridge and Konta Contour. What a wonderful illustration of tennis’s minor and transient impact on the wider British public.

Pissed middle-class women

Wimbledon transforms middle-class women into working-class football fans. Staggering around trying desperately to be filmed drinking champage with strawberries in, these ladies ooze charm at 9am but are tanked-up and furious by midday, when a 37-year-old MILF staggers onto court threatening to f**k up Hawkeye.

Pantomime villains

From John McEnroe to Nick Kyrgios Wimbledon has always played host to racquet-smashing, abuse-hurling, ball-whacking bad-boys. As WWF and our current government show, everyone loves a villain and it spices up a sport we’re not in the least interested in 50 weeks a year.

Exhaustive BBC coverage of celebrities

92 per cent of the BBC’s Wimbledon budget is spent spotting celebrities. From Beyoncé to Hugh Grant to Samuel L Jackson, all sat in bemusement and suppressing the urge to snooze. Not forgetting the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and Her Majesty Judy Murray The King Mother.