Film

I Feel Pretty
Rory Scovel plays Ethan, who sees Schumer’s Renee as she is even if she doesn’t

13/05/18

I have to admit, my expectations are low for I Feel Pretty. I’ve seen the trailer, and it all looks a bit… silly. I’ve read reviews too, and they’ve not been kind. Amy Schumer, according to some critics, is just too conventionally pretty and relatively slim to convince as an ugly duckling. To these commentators I say just this: I think that’s the whole point.

Because Renée (Schumacher) isn’t supposed to be hideous. She’s just ordinary. She looks fine. But she doesn’t look the way she wants to; she doesn’t fit the image she sees held up as an ideal – an image she’s exposed to even more than most people, because she works for a cosmetics company. Her self-esteem is so low she can’t look people in the eye, whether she’s trying to order drinks in a bar or give her shoe size to a clerk. But a drunken trip to a wishing well followed by a bang to the head in an exercise class give Renée a new-found confidence: when she looks in the mirror, she sees a supermodel. To everybody else she looks just the same; her friends are dumb-founded when she talks about how much she’s changed. But her self-belief yields positive results: the new, bold version of Renée is go-getting and popular. The message, it seems, is a simple one: believe in yourself and others will follow suit.

It’s a sensible message, and Schumer is a strong performer: funny and engaging and easy to like. A shame, then, that the film is so muddled, that – after a strong opening third – it flounders, and seems to lose its way. Take Renée’s first date with Ethan (Rory Scovel), for example. He’s a great character, and their relationship is touching. But the bikini contest (which Renée enters on a whim) is a baffling mis-step, which seems to undermine any positive message about female body image and empowerment that the film lays claim to. How can this ‘baying-men-decide-who’s-the-hottest-girl’ competition fit with that narrative?

There are other issues, mostly of credibility. Why is Renée so needlessly cruel to her friends (Aidy Bryant and Busy Philipps)? It doesn’t seem in keeping with the character (I know she’s been transformed, but it doesn’t match any of her other behaviour, even after the change). And the saccharine ‘we’re all beautiful’ ending makes me want to puke. I mean, c’mon. All this for that?  It’s depressingly trite.

Still, there are redeeming features. Michelle Williams shows once again what a chameleon she is; I hardly recognise her at first as squeaky-voiced company director, Avery LeClaire. A lot of clichés are successfully avoided: the fashion folk are not all vacuous and bitchy; the ‘beautiful’ women are as real as the ‘plainer’ ones. It’s eminently watchable. It’s just not very good.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

Macbeth
Macbeth Royal National Theatre London Nadia Albina Michael Balogun Stephen Boxer Lady Macbeth – Anne-Marie Duff Trevor Fox Andrew Frame Kevin Harvey Hannah Hutch Nicholas Karimi Macbeth – Rory Kinnear Joshua Lacey Penny Layden Anna-Maria Nabirye Patrick O’Kane Amaka Okafor Hauk Pattison Alana Ramsey Beatrice Scirocchi Rakhee Sharma Parth Thakerar Production team Director – Rufus Norris Set Designer – Rae Smith Costume Designer – Moritz Junge Lighting Designer – James Farncombe Music – Orlando Gough Sound Designer – Paul Arditti Movement Director – Imogen Knight Fight Director – Jeremy Barlow Fight Director – Kev McCurdy Music Director – Marc Tritschler Company Voice Work – Jeannette Nelson Associate Set Designer – Aaron Marsden Staff Director – Liz Stevenson

10/05/18

Let’s face it, Macbeth’s biggest problem is its ubiquity. Easily the most accessible of Shakespeare’s plays – and arguably one of the most powerful – we’ve seen so many average versions of it over the years (amongst which I am inclined to include Justin Kurzel’s 2015 film adaptation) that a production really needs to do something very special with the source material in order to make it an enticing proposition. I’m therefore delighted to say that the National Theatre’s latest production, directed by Rufus Norris and seen here via a live cinema linkup,  does exactly that, giving us a Macbeth that rivals the very best of them.

It almost goes without saying that both Rory Kinnear (in the title role) and Anne Marie Duff (as his manipulative wife) submit exceptional performances, giving those oh-so-familiar lines enough oomph to make you feel as though you’re actually hearing them for the first time. No mean feat.  But it’s the production design that really shines. This version takes place in what might well be a post-apocalyptic world, where a civil war has just been bloodily disputed and where everything has a grungy ‘make do and mend’ look. Severed heads are proudly displayed in supermarket carrier bags, food is served in battered mess tins and even Macbeth’s armour is contrived from found items battered into shape, which have to be literally gaffa-taped onto him before each battle. Duncan (Stephen Boxer)’s royal regalia comprises an ill-fitting red velvet suit, that might have been salvaged from a charity shop. It provides the one splash of vibrant colour in an otherwise drab and scuffed world.

Production designer Rae Smith has created a huge wood and metal arch upon which much of the action plays out. It somehow contrives to be both heavily industrial yet strangely ethereal as it swings silently back and forth. It is poised over a revolving circular stage, so that each successive scene can glide effortlessly into position. In one sequence, the Weird Sisters move with the turning of that central wheel like the protagonists of a particularly disturbing nightmare. There’s some great use of regional accents: Trevor Fox’s Porter is a dour Geordie; Patrick O’ Kane’s MacDuff a pugnacious Irishman. Oh, and the element that lets down so many stage productions – that climactic battle – is delivered here with enough zeal and gusto to be truly convincing. You’ll believe that a head can be bloodily severed.

Of course, if you’re reading this and you weren’t at last night’s showing, you’ve already missed your chance to see the live broadcast, but the good news is that the production is heading out on a UK and Ireland tour from late September, so – if it’s showing anywhere near you – do take the opportunity to see it. It will serve to remind you that Shakespeare, when convincingly done, can be truly and utterly enthralling.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Mary and the Witch’s Flower

06/05/18

Studio Ghibli may be defunct, but here’s the first release from its successor, Studio Ponoc, and it’s apparent pretty much from the word go that the resulting film couldn’t be more Ghilbli-esque if it tried. All the familiar tropes are here. A moody young girl with low self-esteem? Check! Stranded in an unfamiliar neighborhood while her parents are away? You’ve got it! A cheeky but handsome boy she at first hates but grows to care about? Oh, yes! Sumptuous representations of the countryside?  All present and correct!

Which might give the impression that Mary and the Witch’s Flower is nothing but a pale imitation of what has gone before and I certainly don’t mean to do that. Suffice to say that the film is very much in the great tradition of Japan’s leading animation studio and, of course, that should be no great surprise, because its director, Hiromasa Yonebayashi (of When Marnie Was There), was one of Ghibli’s most acclaimed animators.

MATWF is based on classic 70s novel The Little Broomstick by Mary Stewart, a book that was clearly a huge influence on  the work of a certain Ms Rowling, and tells the story of young Mary (Hana Sugisaki), who is currently living with her Great Aunt Charlotte (Shinobu Otake) and doing her best to fit in with a rather dull day-to-day existence in the countryside. A chance encounter in the woods leads her to discover the titular flower, said to be able to grant its possessor incredible powers and, shortly thereafter, she finds an ancient broomstick, which – once activated – takes her off to the mysterious Endor College, a school for witches…

As a calling card, Studio Ponoc really couldn’t have done much more to assure Ghibli fans that its towering reputation is in safe hands. There are the kind of gorgeously lush settings we’ve grown to expect, elements of adventure, comedy and suspense and, of course, that all-important atmosphere of magic that will entrance viewers of all ages. There’s also a choice of viewing. Those who, like me, prefer to watch it in the original language with subtitles, can choose to do so – but there is also a dubbed version on offer, voiced by Ruby Barnhill, Kate Winslet and Jim Broadbent.

Mary Stewart would, I’m sure, have been thrilled with this delightfully inventive adaptation of her classic book. It’s sure to captivate a legion of animation fans.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Tully
(l to r.) Mackenzie Davis as Tully and Charlize Theron as Marlo star in Jason Reitman’s TULLY, a Focus Features release.

04/05/18

Diablo Cody’s latest offering is as quirky and unflinching as we’ve come to expect from the author of Juno. The eponymous Tully (Mackenzie Davis) is a night-nanny, her services gifted to a reluctant Marlo (Charlize Theron) by her rich younger brother, Craig (Mark Duplass). Mark might be crass and boastful, but he knows how exhausting it can be to look after a newborn, especially when there are already two older children on the scene. Marlo and her husband, Drew (Ron Livingston), don’t like feeling beholden to Craig, but – after a scene at their son Jonah’s prestigious kindergarten, where the staff seem neither able nor willing to deal with his additional needs – Marlo concedes defeat. Drew is busy at work, chasing a promotion that will mean a lot to them, and she simply can’t cope with all she has to do. She calls Tully. And Tully changes things.

This is a deliciously honest account of family life and parenting: of the grinding drudgery of night-feeds and school runs, as well as the fierce love and joyous moments that make it all worthwhile. The characterisation is sharp: Marlo, Drew and their children are flawed, believable people, as three-dimensional as they come. They feel real, as if you know them – or people like them, anyway. Tully herself is less familiar, but that’s fine; viewed through Marlo’s eyes, she’s an angel, a saviour, who appears in the night like the elves for the shoemaker, cleaning and baking and taking care of everything.

There are a few moments in the film where I am suddenly unsure, uncomfortable, not convinced by what I see. But I’m glad I stick with it, because everything plays out satisfactorily, and all the things that don’t quite sit right are squared away.

Theron is very good indeed; she plays tired and frazzled with complete authenticity. I like Ron Livingston too; he treads a difficult line here, making Drew at once immensely likeable and irritating. Why does he sit upstairs playing computer games while his wife is falling apart? But he’s not uncaring, nor is he lazy – he does the kids’ baths and supervises homework every night, as well as working long hours – he’s just oblivious and unaware. Still, I do have one major gripe here, which I don’t think the film answers, and it’s this: why does Drew never introduce himself to Tully? She’s in his house every night, and he’s there as well. Why doesn’t he go downstairs and meet the woman who is looking after his baby? He’s a good father, invested in his kids. This makes no sense to me at all. Still, it’s not enough to spoil what is essentially a decent movie, entertaining and informative and very well worth the ticket price.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Nothing Like a Dame

dame1

03/05/18

Take four national treasures. Decant them into a country house and allow to ferment for a couple of days. Throw in four glasses of champagne, then sit back and watch what happens. This is pretty much the recipe for Roger Michell’s charming documentary, Nothing Like a Dame, and, given how unpromising it sounds, it’s amazing how entertaining the results are.

The dames in question are, of course, Judi Dench, Eileen Atkins, Maggie Smith and Joan Plowright, old friends of long standing, and this is a regular get-together they’ve kept going over the years, meeting up at the country home that Dame Joan shared with her husband, Sir Laurence Olivier.

What the film offers us is a series of anecdotes – many of them laugh-out-loud-funny – and a chance to look back at four astonishing careers, with vintage clips of their first forays into theatre and film. Totally unscripted and extremely relaxed, it’s the cinematic equivalent of a warm hug, fully engaging while it’s happening but not particularly memorable when the credits have rolled. Dame Maggie arguably gets the majority of the best lines, sporting a sarcastic streak that makes the most throwaway remark an absolute killer, while Dame Judi spends much of the film helpless with laughter as she and her friends discuss some of the experiences they shared in those early days. What this is, more than anything else, is a film about ageing and the effects of it. Seeing footage of them, so young, so vital, so filled with enthusiasm for their chosen careers is simultaneously enervating and also vaguely melancholic.

There isn’t much to talk about here in terms of a review, but lovers of theatre and admirers of these four women in particular will find plenty to enjoy. Roger Michell, as he openly admits in the little feature that accompanies the main film, doesn’t so much direct as simply point the camera and allow it to run. This certainly won’t be for everyone, but lovers of theatre – and of the work of the four dames – are in for a treat.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Avengers: Infinity War

02/05/18

The furore has settled. That inevitable record-breaking opening has come and gone. The embargoes have finally been lifted and, hopefully, the Marvel die-hards have accepted that reviewers are actually allowed to talk about what has been widely touted as the ‘holy grail’ of comic book movie adaptations. It’s time to take stock of Avengers: Infinity War. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the biggest fan of the genre but, that said, I have seen most of the eighteen films that lead up to this one – and, you know what? I actually enjoyed a few of them. But I can’t help feeling dismayed that this has been accorded such awe-struck reverence. Let’s face it, it’s not some major cinematic milestone. It’s not Citizen Kane. It’s a big dumb movie about people in spandex who hit each other. 

Of course, such movies always require a big, bad villain and here that post is filled by Thanos (Josh Brolin, somehow still recognisable under the layers of pixels), who admittedly has a little more nuance than most Marvel villains – but only because, unlike his predecessors, he doesn’t advocate the destruction of all humanity – just half of it. And even that’s because he believes said destruction is the only sure way to ensure any kind of future. Which sort of makes him a pragmatist, I suppose. He’s currently on the search for the Infinity Stones that will make him the ultimate force in the universe. One of them is in the possession of Doctor Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch), the other is, rather inconveniently, embedded in the forehead of Vision (Paul Bettany).  There’s a final ultra-mysterious stone somewhere but nobody seems to be sure where that one might be hiding.

Thanos dutifully sets off on a mission of destruction and The Avengers get the old group back together in order to oppose him. So that’s Iron Man and Spider-Man and Black Widow and… many others. Just in case that wasn’t enough, they are augmented by The Guardians of the Galaxy, Black Panther and just about anybody else available… apart from Hawkeye, who presumably isn’t considered super enough, having only a humble bow and arrow to work with. Actually, I can’t help feeling the makers have missed a bit of a trick here by not including an Uncle Tom Cobley-Man, but hey, maybe I’m just not reverential enough.

It’s probably pointless to say anything else about the story – it will only incur shouts of ‘plot spoilers!’ from those who have appointed themselves as the guardians of such things – but the film’s main problem is evident from very early on. Too many superheroes. There are virtually herds of them, racing across the screen and doing super heroic things to try and slow down the seemingly invincible Thanos. (If he’s this powerful without the Infinity Stones, you can’t help wondering why he’s going to such lengths to get his mitts on them.)

To be fair to directors, the Russo Brothers, they do a decent job of keeping this potential sludgefest moving merrily along, mainly by cross cutting from one major plot strand to another – there are five to choose from. The film is at its best when it keeps things light and snarky – usually whenever Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) is onscreen – but when it tries for solemnity, well… I just can’t stop reminding myself that this is actually a film about people in spandex punching each other – and look, I really wouldn’t mind that so much, if it didn’t go on for quite so long. An action set piece in Wakanda, starts well, but seems to last for what feels suspiciously like a week.

Of course, the big thing here is that, unusually for this genre, there are several high-profile casualties… but who amongst us is naive enough to believe that, with a second instalment already being made, those ‘shocking’ deaths will be allowed to stand? What, kill off several billion-dollar franchises in one fell swoop? I seriously doubt it. Call me cynical; I don’t care.

In the end, Infinity Wars is a decent enough attempt at tying up a bunch of narrative loose threads but it’s not the masterpiece that many have claimed and, trust me, if you haven’t seen at least a few of the earlier movies referenced here, you’ll struggle to figure out what the hell is going on. Kids (and those who generally think that bigger and louder automatically equals better) will no doubt have a field day with it, but as far as I’m concerned, Infinity War Part Two can take as long as it likes to get here. I’m not holding my breath.

3 stars

Philip Caveney

 

Love, Simon

25/04/18

We came rather late to this, deterred mostly by its trailer, which appeared to pitch a very different kind of film indeed, making it look like a lame, ‘ten years too late’ attempt at a coming-out movie. But after hearing very good word of mouth, we decide to give it a chance and, as it turns out, Greg Berlanti’s  Love, Simon, is actually a sprightly, wittily-scripted film, which (unusually for a teen vehicle) seems to really understand the characters it’s depicting. This isn’t the first film that’s suffered from an underwhelming trailer but I’ve rarely seen such a poor attempt to convey a movie’s evident strengths.

Simon (Nick Robinson – no, not that Nick Robinson!) is a handsome, likeable teenager, currently going through his final year at high school. He has a trio of close friends and is currently rehearsing for the school’s production of Cabaret. But he has a secret. He’s gay, something he’s known about for several years. He’s certainly not the only gay pupil at the school. For instance, there’s Ethan (Clark Moore), who is happily out of the closet and makes no secret of his sexual orientation, but Simon just can’t bring himself to tell anyone, particularly his liberal and totally open-minded parents (played by Jennifer Garner and Josh Duhamel). He doesn’t want anything to change; he’s comfortable with his image and the way he fits in. It’s not that he thinks he will face any overt homophobia (well, maybe from a couple of ne-er-do-wells, but not from anyone who matters), just that he’s not ready to share this part of who he is.

Still, when he discovers some posts on school gossip blog, Craig’s Secrets, from another secretly gay boy calling himself ‘Blue,’ Simon responds enthusiastically, and the two of them begin to correspond regularly. But who is Blue? Will Simon ever meet him in real life? And will either of them ever come out into the open? In Simon’s case, the matter is taken out of his hands when a classmate chances upon his secret and threatens to expose him, unless he helps the blackmailer out with a certain situation. In the resulting scramble to keep a lid on things, Simon risks alienating himself from his closest friends…

Everything here is so deftly handled. There are engaging performances from all concerned (look out for Tony Hale as well-meaning, but totally hapless teacher, Mr Worth); there’s a fresh lively look to the cinematography, a zingy soundtrack and a couple of scenes that are genuinely affecting – I find myself welling up at two key points. Robinson is perfect in the title role and Logan Miller does a great job of depicting the nerdish and extremely needy Martin, the kid who all the others make an effort to avoid and who is handed the film’s most toe-curling scene.

Best of all, this doesn’t come across as some forty -year-old writer’s idea of what teenagers are all about. It nails them perfectly and manages to be effortlessly entertaining – and informative – in the process. Result.

So, the moral of this story is, I suppose, always take a trailer with a large pinch of salt, otherwise you could just end up missing a treat.

Love, Simon is just such a treat. Don’t miss it.

4.5 stars

Philip Caveney

 

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

23/04/18

Based on a bestselling novel and handsomely filmed on location by veteran director, Mike Newell, it’s hard to dislike this clunkily-titled romance. It’s handsomely produced and nicely acted by an ensemble cast and, if occasionally it wanders a little into the land of the twee, well, that’s no great hardship, because the story is interesting enough to keep us engaged to the end.

It’s 1946 and the world is recovering from the devastating effects of the second World War. Unfeasibly successful young author, Juliet Ashton (Lily James), already has a best-selling book under her belt, and is being vigorously courted by rich and handsome American, Mark Reynolds (Glen Powell). But then a letter arrives from somebody she has never met. Dawsey Adams (Michiel Huisman) has chanced upon her name and address in a second-hand book by Charles Lamb, and mentions that he is a member of the titular society, hastily formed and named back in 1941, when Guernsey was under Nazi occupation.

After exchanging several letters with Dawsey, Juliet decides to head over to the island to attend the society’s next meeting, much to the consternation of her publisher – and best mate – Sidney Stark (Matthew Goode), who needs her on the mainland to do an extensive book tour. Once on Guernsey, Juliet quickly discovers that the events of the war have left many wounds that have yet to heal and a bit of a mystery that’s desperately in need of a solution. Moreover, when she meets Dawsey in the flesh, she finds herself becoming more and more interested in him…

Okay, so there are no great surprises in the story, but when you have actors of the calibre of Tom Courtenay and Penelope Wilton in supporting roles, you aren’t going to be disappointed with their efforts – and Katherine Parkinson is a particular delight as the oddly named Isola Pribby, a member of the society who is constantly tipsy on the homemade gin she distils and sells. The parts of the story that deal with the Nazi occupation could doubtless have been handled with a little more abrasiveness but, more than anything else, this feels like a lushly filmed advertisement for the joys of Guernsey itself, with a host of gorgeous locations that are sure to encourage plenty of tourists to pay the place a visit this summer – which is rather ironic when you consider that all the filming was actually done in Devon!

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society is unlikely to thrill you, but – if you’re a romantic soul who fancies a nice warm hug of a film – I’m sure this is just the ticket.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Funny Cow

22/04/18

If Adrian Shergold’s film tells us anything about life in 1970s England, the overriding message is that being a female standup comedian was clearly no laughing matter. Take the eponymous Funny Cow for example – we are never told the character’s actual name and indeed, when we first meet her, she’s still Funny Calf (Macy Shackleton), a self-assured youngster with a tendency to live in a dream world and tell tall stories, something that earns her the undisguised hatred of her peers. She is going through what might be called a troubled childhood. Her mother (Christine Bottomley – and later in the film, Lindsey Coulson) is a hopeless alcoholic and her father (Stephen Graham) a short-tempered bully, but none of this is enough to subdue her fighting spirit.

Pretty soon, FC has grown up to be Maxine Peake and has acquired her own short-tempered bully of a husband, Bob (Tony Pitts, who also wrote the script). Bob is an aggressive slob, ever ready with a foul-mouthed put-down and a helpful head-butt whenever his wife steps out of line. But FC remains indomitable, and at a working men’s club one evening, has a kind of epiphany when she witnesses veteran comic, Lenny (Alun Armstrong), toiling his way through a time-worn routine to the undisguised derision of the audience. She is the one person there who finds him funny. She decides this is the life she is destined for and, whatever it takes, she’ll make it happen. The two of them form an uneasy alliance, as she follows him from gig-to-gig, watching his inexorable slide into oblivion while honing her own craft.

Funny Cow is a strangely unsettling film – it tells its story though a series of vignettes and cuts back and forth in time with a kind of gleeful exuberance, each section marked by hand written title cards. The stand-up routines we’re offered aren’t generally all that amusing – indeed, most of them are more like tortured confessionals, as FC talks direct to camera. It certainly isn’t a recruiting campaign for would be stand-ups. Even when she’s made a success of her chosen career, FC is shunned by virtually everyone she knows. A scene where she makes an uncomfortable visit to her brother, Mike (also played by Stephen Graham), and his family is particularly toe-curling.

It’s by no means a perfect film. The usually dependable Paddy Considine struggles somewhat as Angus, the middle class bookshop owner to whom FC runs when she realises she can no longer live with Bob. There’s nothing wrong with his performance per se, but the script somehow fails to give him a single line that convinces, making him little more a caricature, all vintage brandy and visits to the thee-ay-tah. It’s one of the film’s few missteps.

But one thing is for sure: Peake is an extraordinary presence in the lead role, displaying an almost luminous quality that seems to light up the screen whenever she appears. Here is a brilliant actor at the very height of her powers and this performance confirms her as one of the best and most versatile of her generation. It’s also a film that stays with me long after I’ve left the cinema, aided no doubt by Richard Hawley’s memorable theme song; he also makes a cameo here as a would-be performer at FC’s first disastrous audition.

Eagle-eyed viewers will spot some genuine comics in cameo roles: Dianne Morgan, Vic Reeves and John Bishop to name but three. Keep your eyes peeled for others.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Beast

16/04/18

Beast is a well-crafted psychological thriller with a twisty-turny storyline that keeps you gripped and guessing right up to the very last frame. The first full-length feature from writer/director Michael Pearce, it’s set on Jersey and exploits the island’s unique atmosphere to great effect. Make no mistake, this is an assured debut from a talented young film maker.

Moll (Jessie Buckley) is a troubled young woman haunted by a violent incident in her childhood. Years later, she’s still paying for her youthful transgressions, tethered to the family home by her domineering mother, Hilary (Geraldine James), and forced to provide care for her father, who is going through the early stages of dementia. Little wonder then that she chooses to bail out of her own birthday party in order to head to the local nightclub to chase up some drinks and a little action. On her way home, she bumps into Pascal (Johnny Flynn), a rough-hewn local handyman, who, it transpires, has also broken a few rules in the past. To Moll, he personifies the idea of escape and the two of them begin a passionate affair, much to the undisguised disgust of Moll’s mother and her straight-laced older sister, Polly (Sharon Tarbet). They are all too aware that a spate of brutal murders is currently unfolding on the island and they make no secret of the fact that Pascal is their number one suspect…

What might so easily have been a run-of-the-mill murder mystery is elevated into something much more profound as Moll’s dreams, preoccupations and hangups are expertly brought into the mix, maintaining a hazy borderline between what’s real and what might only be imagined. At various points in the story, I find my suspicions switching back and forth like a ride on a roller coaster with malfunctioning brakes – and, if there’s a certain ambiguity about the film’s conclusion, it’s no bad thing, offering plenty to discuss – and maybe even argue about – long after the closing credits have rolled. Both Buckley and Flynn (the latter also currently carving out a successful career as a folk singer) acquit themselves well and, as the ice-cold, uptight mother, Geraldine James is her usual brilliant self.

Shown here in an Unlimited screening, the film gets a regular release towards the end of the month and is well worth your attention.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney