and so anyway it turns out the best thing about Waterworld (1995) is not that it is intermittently far less terrible than I remember it being, though far too intermittently for me to consider rewatching The Postman (1997), the other Kevin Costner post-apocalyptic epic I also saw at the cinema and swore never to watch again, but that Joss Whedon, in his seven weeks of script-doctoring the movie, somehow managed to not ascribe Costner’s character’s gills, webbed toes, Man from Atlantis swimming style, assorted other almost-superpowers and ambiguous motivations to his inability to be a mother…