Month: April 2021

Ray Harryhausen: Titan of Cinema

28/04/21

Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art

Picture this.

I am twelve years old and I am somewhere in darkest Lincolnshire, sitting in the front row of a cinema, gazing open-mouthed up at the big screen. It’s 1963 and the film I’m watching is Jason and the Argonauts, which I have been lured to after watching a very enticing trailer on television. As I sit there, entranced, Jason and his armoured pals are doing violent battle with a bunch of creepy-looking skeletons, brandishing swords and shields.

And the thought that’s uppermost in my mind is, How have they done this?

Thus far, my experience of movie monsters is mostly actors lurching about in shonky rubber suits… or some latex tentacles held up with lengths of (clearly visible) fishing line. But this is different. This is stop-frame animation. And yes, of course I’ve seen King Kong on the telly, and it’s been kind of explained to me how it all works, but that’s an old black and white effort while this is in technicolour and… it’s something entirely new in my experience, something so thrilling that it sets my burgeoning imagination on fire. This, it turns out, is the work of Ray Harryhausen. He is going to be an influence on my own writing in years to come, but I don’t know that yet.

Over the years, I watch all of his films – and somehow they always belong to him, rather than to whoever happens to be the director. I catch up with his earlier efforts on TV, or on video when that becomes a thing, and I watch each successive new release on the big screen, right up to Ray’s swan song, Clash of the Titans, in 2010. It’s very rare for a special effects man to have his name on the movie poster, but for Ray Harryhausen, they always made an exception. I think it’s fair to say that I am a major fan of his work.

So you can imagine how excited I am when I learn about a forthcoming exhibition. I have it marked in my calendar a full year ahead of time. And then… well, you know what happens next. Covid. Lockdown. End of.

So, here I am, much later than anticipated and finally… FINALLY, it’s deemed safe for me to visit The Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art. As I step through the doorway, I’m thinking: this had better be good.

It is good. In fact, it’s VERY good, a comprehensive exhibition that follows Ray’s story chronologically from room to room, covering his early days as assistant to King Kong animator Willis O’Brien, his ‘Puppetoon‘ series for George Pal, his friendship with Ray Bradbury (coincidentally, my writing hero), and then into the glory days of his partnership with producer Charles Schneer – Jason and the Argonauts, the Sinbad films, One Million Years BC...

And I am in a sort of heaven, transported back to my childhood days as I move from exhibit to exhibit in a state of something suspiciously akin to wide-eyed wonder. Oh look! There’s the actual Mighty Joe Young! And there’s the Kraken! And those pesky skeletons, looking exactly as they did back in 1963, swords raised, ready for action.

But there’s much more than just miniature figurines. There’s a really useful set up that shows exactly how the stop-motion system works, arranged in transparent layers that pop up one by one. There’s a sequence showing just how patient and exacting Ray’s working process must have been as he manipulates a figure through a series of poses. There are rarely seen early attempts at animation, put together in his garage, and there are the meticulously rendered storyboards that would put most contemporary efforts to shame, all of them showing the influence of Ray’s main inspiration, Gustave Doré. And right at the end, there’s a green screen set up where you can stand on a cross and be transported into an exotic location, where you will be menaced by some of those iconic monsters from Ray’s fertile imagination.

When you’ve waited a long time for something to happen, the result can often feel anti-climactic. Not so here. The Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art have this gem on show until the end of August, so you’ve plenty of time to book your places. Everything feels very safe, with masks and social distancing scrupulously observed. Go along and marvel at one man’s incredible accomplishments.

5 Stars

Philip Caveney

Six Minutes to Midnight

21/04/21

Now TV

Eddie Izzard is well known these days for running marathons, so it’s perhaps appropriate that she spends much of this film’s screen time sprinting headlong across the countryside with vengeful Nazis in hot pursuit. Six Minutes to Midnight is an old-school espionage potboiler, very much in the tradition of The 39 Steps, where stiff-upper-lipped Brits take on Hitler’s double agents in plucky and indomitable style. Co-written by Izzard, the tale is set in the exotic location of Bexhill-on-Sea and is loosely based around a true story.

Izzard stars as Thomas Miller, applying for the role of English teacher at a boarding school for German girls on the eve of the Second World War. The twenty girls in residence – who seem to spend much of their time working on their deportment – are presided over by headmistress, Miss Rocholl (Judi Dench), and by the sole other teacher, Ilse (Carla Juri), who seems thoroughly charming. Miss Rocholl is doubtful about Miller’s abilities, but she’s in an awkward position, as the former English teacher has recently gone missing under mysterious circumstances, so she agrees to a trial period.

It’s not long before Miller has his German pupils merrily singing It’s A Long Way to Tipperary, which is an unusual approach to English, to say the very least – and it comes as no great surprise to discover that Miller isn’t really an English teacher at all…

As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly apparent that hardly anybody here is quite who they appear to be. Is Charlie (Jim Broadbent) really a happy-go-lucky bus driver? Is Captain Drey (James D’Arcy) actually a British secret agent or something decidedly more sinister? And what is the significance of the film’s title?

To be fair, Six Minutes to Midnight makes a decent fist at generating a little mystery, but never really gets up a proper head of steam when it comes to the action sequences – and whenever the story stalls, it’s treated as a cue for Eddie to start running again. Poor Judi Dench has little to do but utter some of the lamest lines in history, as events spiral towards an underwhelming climax.

This is decent enough, but nowhere near as gripping as it needs to be.

3 stars

Philip Caveney

Promising Young Woman

20/04/21

Now TV

Emerald Fennell’s Promising Young Woman is a remarkable debut, at once fresh, funny, terrifying and compelling. Starring Carey Mulligan, it tells the tale of Cassie, a med-school dropout with a mission. Cassie is thirty, but she still lives at home with her parents; she works part-time in a coffee shop and has no friends at all. Something calamitous happened back in her uni days, and Cassie wants revenge…

Except she doesn’t; not really. I keep reading that PYW is a ‘rape revenge movie,’ but Cassie doesn’t seem to want revenge at all. Instead, she confronts people with a metaphorical mirror, so that they can’t help but see how shitty their behaviour is. The ‘nice guys’ who approach her with dispiriting predictability when she pretends to be drunk and alone in nightclubs, offering to ‘help’ by getting her home; the girls who slut-shame their peers; the figures of authority who brush sexual attacks under the carpet – Cassie just wants them to acknowledge that they’re wrong. She wants to effect change.

This is a zippy, witty piece of writing, that often feels surprising, and Mulligan is on fine form here. She’s perfect for the role: one minute she’s all sweet vulnerability, the next a steely avenging angel. Writer/director Fennell makes important points about the way our whole society protects and enables those who perpetrate assault whilst punishing their victims, but the film never feels preachy or didactic; she has an admirable lightness of touch. The bubblegum shades and kitsch soundtrack give us hints of rom-com (the scene in the pharmacy, where Cassie and her new boyfriend, Ryan (Bo Burnham), dance to Paris Hilton’s Stars are Blind is a particular delight), but Fennell repeatedly pulls the rug out from under our feet and takes us to some unexpected places. The bold references to Charles Laughton’s classic Night of the Hunter, for example, work well to underscore the bleak reality the story unveils.

The violence, when it comes, is shocking in its understatement. There is no blood and gore here, but neither is there any let up – I don’t think it’s too much of a spoiler to say that what we witness is a deliberate, protracted act. It works though, and I applaud Fennell for eschewing the salacious prurience that often dominates such scenes (Paul Verhoeven’s Elle being a case in point, a movie spoiled for me by its focus on the very acts it claimed to rail against).

It’s easy to see why Promising Young Woman has made such a splash, and appears to be a real Oscar contender. If Fennell wins, it will be well-deserved.

4.7 stars

Susan Singfield

Run

18/04/21

Netflix

The title of this film is surely meant as an irony. What does a potential victim do when they are unable to run away from imminent danger? How can they hope to survive? Well, they must use their ingenuity of course – and this central premise is what fuels a tightly directed thriller from writer/director Aneesh Chaganty, who some will remember from his 2018 offering, Searching. Yes, it’s slightly schlocky, and you might not want to think too closely about some of the background details, but it spins a gripping and suspenseful yarn that never lets up until it hits its final frame.

Chloe (Kiera Allen) is a teenager beset with a whole host of health issues. Just to make sure we appreciate how many there are, they are spelled out over the opening credits. She has asthma and eczema , she has to make herself vomit every morning and, most punishing of all, her legs are completely paralysed. Luckily, she has a mom in a million. She is Diane (Sarah Paulson), a woman who has devoted her life to caring for her daughter’s needs, teaching her at home, medicating her, cooking, cleaning, the whole shebang.

But a change is coming. Chloe has applied to go to University and she’s confidently awaiting offers of admission. Diane is taking it all in her stride. When asked by other carers how she’ll cope when her baby finally flies the nest, she assures them she’ll be just okay. Why, she’s actually looking forward to a little relaxation.

But… is she really as laid back as she appears?

It would be a crime to reveal any more of the plot. Suffice to say that there are some genuine surprises waiting in the wings to step out from cover and smack you in the kisser. Paulson is always good and she excels here as a cunning and deceitful character, able to mask everything behind a matronly smile. Allen too is utterly convincing as her daughter, who, over the space of a few days, has to come to terms with the fact that everything she’s believed since childhood needs to be drastically reassessed – and who is ingenious enough to find solutions to pretty much every problem that’s thrown at her.

There’s probably little point in mentioning any other actors because this is essentially a two hander – though I think an honourable nod should go to Pat Healy as ‘Mailman Tom,’ who certainly manages to make his brief appearance a memorable one.

So yes, this is well worth one hour and forty-eight minutes of your time.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Sound of Metal

13/04/21

Amazon Prime

Sound of Metal has been making waves at film festivals around the world and has recently garnered multiple nominations for both BAFTAs and Oscars. It’s easy to see why it’s earned such acclaim. Despite that pugnacious title, this is a surprisingly gentle and reflective film and it’s also, I think, rather unique. It’s fair to say that I’ve never seen another movie quite like it.

Ruben (Riz Ahmed) is a drummer in a heavy metal duo, providing the beat for his singer/guitarist girlfriend, Lou (Olivia Cooke), to vocalise over. The two of them are in the middle of a big tour, driving around America in Ruben’s RV and looking forward to the releasing of their new album. From the brief performance we witness over the opening credits, it’s clear that Blackgammon devote considerably more attention to their amplification than they do to their songs – but they do manage to create a thumping, propulsive sound that has stirred up a sizeable following.

Ruben and Lou are both former drug addicts, and are just about managing to stay clean, despite all the temptations they encounter on tour.

And then, just before going onstage one night, Ruben suffers a sudden and catastrophic loss of hearing. He has to get through the ensuing performance on autopilot, but it’s evident to Lou that something isn’t right. Afterwards, he confesses his problem to her, and she insists that they contact their sponsor, Hector, to see what can be done about the situation. Meanwhile, Ruben visits a hearing specialist, who advises him that he needs to avoid loud noise at all costs – tricky, to say the least – and also mentions the possibility of cochlear implants, an operation that costs thousands of dollars, but which could give Ruben back some degree of hearing.

In the meantime, he is despatched to a rural shelter for deaf, recovering addicts, run by the taciturn Joe (Paul Raci), who lost his own hearing in the Vietnam War. Joe insists that Ruben can only stay at the retreat alone – or not at all, should he decide to have those implants. Joe is adamant that deafness is not a handicap and that surgery is the wrong approach. He advises Ruben to sit alone, to learn sign language and to experience his own ‘stillness.’

Ruben struggles to engage with the latter and though he starts to make progress at the retreat, he is still torn about the thought of those implants… and he thinks he can see a possible way to pay for them.

Sound of Metal is full of unexpected delights, one of which is – ironically – the soundtrack. Not the song that Blackgammon play, mind, but the incidental effects, which it took fifteen technicians to create. Elaborate soundscapes are featured throughout the film, alternating between the rich textures of nature and the weird, twisted versions that Ruben receives as his hearing begins to deteriorate. The most vivid example is at Lou’s birthday party, hosted by her musician father, Richard (Mathieu Almeric), where the sound cuts from a pretty duet performed by Lou and Richard, to the desecrated travesty that Ruben can actually hear. It’s the film’s most poignant moment.

It’s more than just the sound, though. Ahmed (who currently appears to be one of the busiest actors in the business) does a terrific job of portraying Ruben’s mounting terror as the thing he loves most in the world – the music that he and Lou create together- is cruelly taken away from him.

This won’t be for everyone – and that misleading title doesn’t really help – but it’s well worth the watch.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Concrete Cowboy

12/04/21

Netflix

There’s nothing innovative about the plot of Concrete Cowboy. The ‘troubled teen learns to better himself by caring for an animal’ trope is very well worn, with shining beacons such as Kes and Old Yeller really making their mark. But writer/director Ricky Staub’s movie is nevertheless well worth watching, because it’s hard to tire of redemption tales, and this one shines a light on a little-known community: black cowboys in Philadelphia.

This isn’t just my ignorance; the movie spells it out. Most of us don’t know black cowboys exist; they’ve been whitewashed out of history. In fact, we don’t expect to see poor black Philadelphians on horseback at all, but there they are, eking out a living from their urban stables.

Caleb McLaughlin is Cole, and he’s in bother. Again. Expelled from yet another Detroit school, Cole is running out of options. His mum, Amahle (Liz Priestley), knows she needs to do something radical. And so, despite his protests, she packs Cole’s bags and drives him to Philadelphia, telling him he has to spend the summer with his dad, Harp (Idris Elba). Cole is not at all keen on the idea, especially when he realises just how unconventional Harp’s living arrangements are. Sleeping on a sofa isn’t such a big deal, but sharing a room with a horse is beyond the pale.

It’s not easy. Harp is kind but very strict, and Cole doesn’t take well to discipline. And there is temptation in Philadelphia too, in the form of Cole’s childhood friend, Smush (Jharrel Jerome), who’s risking everything by double-crossing the drug dealers he works for. Cole goes along for the ride – and for the fancy new trainers – but he soon realises the danger he’s in…

But he doesn’t need to follow Smoosh, because he has a horse, Boo: a wild, unbroken animal that only he can get close to. What will he do?

McLaughlin delivers a fine performance; it’s easy to empathise with the moody teenager he portrays, to understand his conflicting emotions. The ensemble cast are great too, notably Lorraine Toussaint as stable owner, Nessie, and Ivannah-Mercedes as love interest, Esha. But my favourite thing about this film is the exposé of the cowboys’ precarious situation. They rarely own their stables; as renters, they’re vulnerable to eviction, if a landowner can make money by selling to property developers as an area gentrifies, for example. It seems so wrong that their entire way of life can be threatened like this, and so short-sighted. All Smush wants is to earn enough money to move to the countryside and live on a ranch; if people are denied opportunities, of course they turn to crime.

So, no, it’s not original, and yes, you can see every plot turn a mile away, but Concrete Cowboy is still a fascinating watch.

3.7 stars

Susan Singfield

The Mauritanian

11/04/21

Amazon Prime Video

The Mauritanian has received mixed reviews, but I find it hard to see why anyone outside the “flog’ em, hang ’em” brigade would have a negative reaction here. It’s a nuanced and informative piece, making public the true story of Mohamedou Ould Slahi (Tahar Rahim), the eponymous young Mauritanian, who, suspected of links to Al Quaeda, was detained without charge at Guantanamo Bay for fourteen long years.

Kevin Macdonald’s film never points the reader in the direction of Slahi’s guilt or innocence, because that’s literally the point: we don’t know, and neither do the people who incarcerated him. Defence lawyer Nancy Hollander (Jodie Foster) reinforces the importance of this when she admonishes her young assistant, Teri Duncan (Shailene Woodley), for responding emotionally to Shahi’s written confession. ‘Everyone is entitled to a defence,’ she tells her, and, ‘Since when did this country start locking people up without a trial?’ Because Slahi has been picked up on the flimsiest of evidence, and if we lose haebus corpus then surely we lose the right to refer to our legal system as ‘justice.’

Military prosecutor Stuart Couch (Benedict Cumberbatch, who is – disconcertingly – even more convincing as a US army man than he is as an English toff) is tasked with representing the state and, initially, he’s more than willing. Shahi is accused of plotting the 9/11 terror attack, where Couch lost a close personal friend. But Couch is a man of principle, and he can’t proceed in good conscience when he realises that Shahi’s confession was coerced through torture, and that the rule of law has been abandoned. Couch wants the guilty parties to pay – but he wants to make sure they are, actually, guilty. (He’s picky like that!)

Rahim is a revelation in the central role. He is charming, erudite, angry and afraid. The torture scenes – artfully shot, hallucinatory flashbacks – are horrifying; no one, no matter what they’ve done, should be brutalised this way. Foster shines as you’d expect her to, depicting a version of Hollander that is all grim determination and moral rectitude, a fierce advocate for doing the right thing.

This isn’t an exciting film: it’s the slow, careful unveiling of an unpalatable truth – namely, that the USA is violating its own doctrine in a detention camp deliberately situated far beyond its shores. Out of sight, out of mind, seems to be the hope, but – as long as there are people like Hollander in the world – they will, hopefully, eventually, be called to account. In the meantime, there are still more than forty prisoners there, and their plight needs addressing.

The Mauritanian is well worth a few hours of your time.

4.1 stars

Susan Singfield

Palm Springs

10/04/21

Amazon Prime

If I told you I’d just watched a movie about a couple stuck in a time loop – how, for them, every day begins in the same way and that, every time they fall asleep, they wake up to find that they’re right back where they started, you’d doubtless nod and say, ‘Oh, yeah, Groundhog Day. Seen that.’ But Palm Springs unabashedly takes that same central premise and runs with it, taking the concept into fresh terrain – and manages to do so without once feeling like a rip off. Furthermore, with pretty much the whole world stuck in a repetitious pandemic loop, where every day is depressingly similar to its predecessor, the film seems eerily prescient.

This is the story of Nyles (Andy Samberg), who’s at the titular resort with his odious girlfriend, Misty (Meredith Hagner), and forced to spend every single day of his life reliving a wedding. The bride-to-be is Misty’s sister, Tala (Camila Mendes); the groom is Abe (Tyler Hoechlin). Let’s face it, if you have to repeat an experience over and over for the rest of your days, somebody else’s family’s wedding isn’t going to figure highly on your bucket list. Nyles has been stuck in this loop for as long as he can remember, ever since wandering into a mysterious cave in the desert, and he’s resigned himself to creating as much variety as he can within these narrow limits, in the certain knowledge that if things start to go badly wrong, he can just step in front of a truck and start over.

But then he begins a flirtation with Tala’s sister, Sarah (Christina Miloti), who follows him into the cave and promptly finds herself trapped in the same dire situation. Determined not to amble along in the same accepting fashion as Nyles, she immediately attempts to disrupt the process that he has long ago accepted as his norm – and things begin to get really strange. Palm Springs is a sprightly, good natured confection, that never makes the mistake of taking itself too seriously. On the contrary, it gallops along, making its one hour, thirty minute running time fly by almost too quickly. Samberg and Miloti are an appealing duo – Milotti in particular exerts a persuasive, kooky charm – and there’s a cameo by the ever reliable J.K. Simmons as Roy, a man who from time to time enjoys hunting down – and killing – Nyles with a bow and arrow. (Don’t ask.)

While it’s played mostly for laughs, Palm Springs does posit an intriguing question. Are people really destined to be together forever? Or, as Nyles argues, is it better for them to have fun for a while and then head off in opposite directions to seek their own new horizons? And, when confronted by his unexpected feelings for Sarah, how can he ever hope to stick to his convictions?

It’s refreshing in these troubled times to find a film that doesn’t bog itself down in too many complications. My advice is simply to buckle in and enjoy the ride. It will take you to some unexpected places.

4.3 stars

Philip Caveney

To Olivia

08/04/21

Now TV

It’s the early 1960s and ambitious author Roald Dahl (Hugh Bonneville) is smarting from the lukewarm reception afforded to his recently published children’s novel, James and the Giant Peach. Undeterred, he’s planning his next opus, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. We know he’s an author because he constantly talks about the work in progress, dropping little references that relate to what’s coming next and using his three children, Olivia, Tessa and Theo, as sounding boards for his new ideas. This is something that, in my experience, real authors never do. Should I ever fall into the habit, please feel free to tell me to shut up.

Dahl lives in darkest Surrey with his wife, acclaimed screen actress, Patricia Neal (Keeley Hawes), who is herself dissatisfied by the fact that her once eventful career seems to be heading nowhere fast, since she’s reached a certain age – though she has been offered a small part in Martin Ritt’s upcoming movie, a little thing called Hud. (Roald thinks the part is beneath her and advises her not to bother).

But their country idyll is shattered when Olivia contracts measles and, with no vaccine available in the 1960s, promptly dies of encephalitis. This film then is about Dahl’s desperate attempts to come to terms with the death of his daughter and his subsequent struggle to maintain both his marriage to Neal and his relationships with his other children. On paper, it promises to be a visceral tearjerker. But somehow, it’s not.

John Hays’ film makes a valiant attempt to cover this difficult subject matter, but seems to shy away from anything too tortuous or distasteful, which means it all feels rather too cosy for its own good. Attempts have been made to ‘plain up’ Hugh Bonneville with a false nose and a balding pate but, even when he’s being unpleasant – something that the real Roald Dahl was allegedly very adept at – he’s still basically Hugh Bonneville, the very definition of a thoroughly nice chap. Hawes is perhaps a better fit for Neal, but isn’t given the kind of catharsis her character requires. Even her brief interplay with Paul Newman (Sam Heughan, who certainly looks the part) seems more concerned with pointing out how capable she is at putting the director and lead actor straight about their own project, which just feels downright odd.

To Olivia is curiously underwhelming. There’s an admittedly lovely turn from Isabella Jonsson as Tessa and there’s also the final performance from Geoffrey Palmer as a deeply unpleasant archbishop of Canterbury, ranting about animals not being allowed into the kingdom of heaven, but even that isn’t enough to make this project fly.

It’s like being assaulted with nicely plumped cushions – you don’t really feel any impact.

2.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Home by Nico: Cooking ‘Vietnam’

07/04/21

http://www.home-x.com

In the current situation, the best chance of enjoying a memorable meal – short of making it yourself – is either the perennial takeaway or one of those ‘cook at home’ boxes. Over the past year, we’ve sampled quite a few of the latter, from different sources, with varying degrees of success. Something about the ‘Vietnam’ menu from Home by Nico hooks us, so we book it in for a suitable evening and, on the appointed day, within a designated one hour time slot (always useful), a box with the approximate dimensions of a small continent arrives at our door.

Once opened up, and unpacked, it’s apparent that the Nico team have put quite a bit of thought into this. We notice for instance, that the containers holding the various courses are composed of recyclable materials with a removable plastic veneer. This cuts down considerably on the inevitable landfill. We’ve often felt guilty about the wastage on some of the earlier meals we’ve sampled, so this feels like an important step in the right direction. The chefs have also tried hard to make us feel like we’re being suitably spoiled. They’ve provided enticing little boxes of garnish for each course and, though there is a certain amount of preparation required on our part, it’s no great hardship, with every step carefully explained. You’d be hard put to get it wrong.

For starters there are Duck Bao Buns – gloriously sticky steamed confections with a generous shredded duck filling and a selection of appetising garnishes including pickled vegetables, hoi sin roasted peanuts and crispy shallots. To say that the course is flavoursome would be something of an understatement: it is vibrant with flavour, as indeed is everything else about this meal. And the aromas are exquisite!

Next up there’s Hot and Sour Pho – a bowl of smoky broth, with earthy rice noodles, enoki mushrooms, lemongrass and chilli oil. This is perfectly spiced, just hot enough to set my taste buds alight but never overwhelming them. The pho is studded with red chillis and miniature sweetcorn and we polish it off very quickly indeed.

At this point, we take a short break and enjoy a couple of glasses of the accompanying wine, The Rambler, a fruity South African white that makes a perfect cooler after that fiery broth.

The main course is Caramel Belly of Pork Hot Pot – which is every bit as appetising as it sounds. There are four thick slabs of succulent meat, which need to be fried off, with a covering of aromatic sticky glaze. This is served with stir fried slaw, ginger and chilli. There are also two side dishes – some Sautéed Asian Greens with garlic and ginger; and a Clay Pot Aubergine, with green beans and chunks of potato. Individually, all the elements are good, but, when put together on a plate, they create a kind of magic.

Our past experience has been that the sweet is often a disappointment in these home boxes, but happily, this is not the case here. The Vietnamese Coffee turns out to be a thick, smooth pannacotta, with coffee sponge and a layer of crispy coffee crumb on top. It’s deliciously indulgent, almost velvety in its smoothness – and the fact that it comes in a re-useable glass jar is an added bonus. This pudding is irresistible right down to the last spoonful.

All-in-all, this might just be the most accomplished ‘meal at home’ we’ve tried and it serves to exemplify the Nico brand, offering sophisticated cooking at an affordable price. I can’t recommend it highly enough and I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for their next offering.

5 stars

Philip Caveney