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Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu

23/05/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

I’m going to start this review with a controversial statement: Star Wars is possibly the most overrated franchise in cinema history. Having written this, I can imagine stalwart fans virtually foaming at the mouth at my impudence. But before moving on to the latest offering, let’s examine the evidence.

I do have some history with the series. I can still vividly remember going to the Empire Leicester Square – forty–nine years ago – to watch George Lucas’s Episode IV: A New Hope – and I remember looking up at what passed for a giant screen in those days, and feeling suitably thrilled by what I was seeing, even if I did emerge thinking that what I’d just witnessed was essentially a kind of Space Western. In 1980, The Empire Strikes Back was a palpable step-up and I began to see what all the fuss was about.

But 1983’s Return of the Jedi was the first in a long line of disappointments, mainly because I didn’t really care for the cuddly Ewoks, who felt like nothing more than a callous attempt to sell more merchandise – and was I supposed to cheer (internally) every time they were blown up?

From here it was essentially a case of diminishing returns. I doggedly sat through Lucas’s three humourless prequels, wondering what had gone wrong – and, some years later, really appreciated Simon Pegg’s angry tirade in Spaced, where he excoriated a bunch of school kids for daring to call these turgid efforts ‘good films.’ The prequels were followed by a mixed bunch of releases from other filmmakers, attempting to push the format beyond its original humble ambitions. Of these releases, JJ Abrams’ The Force Awakens (2015) was the most convincing, mainly by virtue of the fact that it felt like a ‘greatest hits’ package, featuring slight variations on the best bets from the first couple of movies. But don’t even get me started on The Rise of Skywalker!

So, over a 49-year run, it’s hardly a great innings.

The Mandalorian and Grogu is of course, based on a TV series of which, I have to confess, I have not viewed a single episode – and indeed, this spin-off film, directed and co-written by Jon Favreau (with Dave Filoni and Noah Kloor) was originally destined to be shown on the small screen. Does it have the necessary clout to make the difficult transformation to IMAX?

No.

And not because the film doesn’t look fabulous – the model work and special effects here are off the scale – but because, for all the millions of dollars that have been expended on it, the resulting movie completely fails to compel me, mainly for one ridiculous reason. The Mandalorian never takes off his helmet and this has a curious distancing effect. We all recognise the distinctive voice of cinema’s busiest actor, Pedro Pascal, but only see his face for something like ten minutes, when his captors forcibly remove the headgear. It’s surely no coincidence that this brief section turns out to be the best part of the film. (The helmet also means that two other performers can don the Mandalorian costume, while Pedro’s off filming something else.)

As for Grogu, he’s little more than a glove puppet and though he occasionally does something cute, its hard to convince an audience that he’s anything but another opportunity to sell merch. And how is he capable of doing such incredible things, when his puppeteers fail to even make him walk convincingly?

The thin plot has the mismatched duo sent off by Colonel Ward (Sigourney Weaver) in search of Rotta (son of Jabba) the Hut . Rotta is voiced by Jeremy Allen White, though really it could be anybody – and he’s been abducted by his scheming grandparents, who have realised that he is the rightful successor to his late father but fancy keeping the kingdom for themselves. The resulting storyline is entirely concerned with the long search for Rotta, the finding of him, the losing of him, the finding of him again and… well, you get the general idea.

There are a LOT of endlessly protracted battles that often push against the boundaries of the 12A certificate, but somehow also manage to feel distanced. To be honest, I soon get bored with them and keep hoping there might be something more substantial on offer – but no luck. Mando and Grogu fight a whole succession of giant lizards, giant centipedes, giant apes, giant dogs and giant creatures composed of equal bits of all of those species. Coming out of the crowded screening, I walk alongside a large crowd of kids who are loudly extolling the film’s virtues to each other. ‘The bit where Mando blew the giant snake’s head off!’ ‘The part where Mando chopped the giant spider’s legs off!’ ‘The part where Rotta fell on that guy and squashed him to death!’

And maybe, when all is said and done, this is exactly the audience that Favreau and co are aiming for. For me, it feels like the last gasp of a franchise that’s been pulled further than it was ever meant to stretch. The final ironic straw is to witness Martin Scorcese (who has been so vocal in his criticisms of this kind of filmmaking) voicing Hugo Durant, a four-armed chimp running a burger franchise. What’s the old adage? Oh yes. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.

Sorry, not sorry: this is the worst Star Wars yet. And it was already a pretty low bar.

2 stars

Philip Caveney

Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil

13/05/26

Royal Lyceum, Edinburgh

Sally (Dawn Steele) works in the high-pressure cauldron of a London-based law firm but, after the death of her beloved father, she is called back to her home town of Cowdenbeath to attend his funeral. Dad (Barrie Hunter) was a lifelong fan of the local football team – the ‘Blue Brazil’ of the title. One of her father’s friends informs Sally that her dad’s deepest wish was to have his ashes scattered on the team’s home ground of Central Park.

She initially surmises that the ritual will take place after the next game, only a few days away but soon learns that Dad has requested it should only happen after Cowdenbeath’s next win. And it turns out that his team doesn’t have a great record of scoring actual goals. In fact, their ability to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory is almost beyond belief. 

Sally’s sojourn in her Dad’s council house is haunted by recollections of her father’s obsession with his team’s history and her own terrible memories of what happened to her Mum. As the season slips inexorably by, Sally begins to wonder if she’ll ever get back to the career she’s worked so hard for…

Black Diamond and the Blue Brazil, based on the book by Ron Ferguson and adapted by Gary McNair, is quick to point out that you don’t have to be a Cowdenbeath fan to enjoy this story, but it certainly helps if you are. It’s clear from the laughter (and at one point some actual tears) in tonight’s packed audience that there are many supporters in the house.

Steele does an excellent job of the world-weary, comedic patter, evincing plenty of perfectly-timed laughs from the crowd, but the story is essentially one long litenany of failure, which doesn’t exactly make for an easy watch. The story is punctuated by Ricky Ross’s plaintive ballads which are a little too one-note to help lift the mood – and since each song appears to be a retelling of the scene we’ve just witnessed, they don’t quite generate enough momentum to power the story. Sitting way back at stage left, Ross feels somehow distanced from what’s happening, commentating rather than collaborating.

This play first surfaced as an audio piece and its staging seems a little uneven in its adaptation. Jessica Worrall’s set design is unapologetically realistic in concept, right down to an urn containing the deceased remains. I prefer the occasional moments when the songs are illuminated by Lewis Den Hertog’s video projections, hinting at the long history of the team and its roots in the black soil of coal mining.

At this point, I should confess that I’ve never had any interest in football, though I do sometimes enjoy theatrical interpretations of it (SameTeam immediately springs to mind). However, it’s clear from tonight’s heartfelt standing ovation that the majority of the crowd are with this every step of the way. 

Maybe I’m the problem, but for me, this doesn’t quite hit the back of the net..

3 stars

Philip Caveney

The Sheep Detectives

10/05/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Writer Craig Mazan has had a somewhat checkered career on the big screen. Early projects like Scary Movie 4 and The Hangover 3 came and went without much fuss – and yet, for television, he scripted both the extraordinary Chernobyl and The Last of Us to well-deserved acclaim. What then are we to make of his long-nurtured adaptation of Leonie Swann’s novel, Three Bags Full, which plays like a cross between Babe and Murder Most Foul?

The Sheep Detectives is the story of a shepherd called George (Hugh Jackman, sporting a winning smile and an accent that seems to vary alarmingly from scene to scene). George is the proverbial good shepherd, a man who only farms sheep for their wool and wouldn’t dream of worrying his flock by waving pots of mint sauce at them. He even has a long-established routine of reading them murder mysteries every night to ‘help them sleep.’ As you do.

He’s blissfully unaware that they understand every word he’s saying…

One morning, George’s dead body is discovered in the field and his flock, led by Lily (voiced by Julia Louis-Dreyfus), decide that the crime deserves a deeper level of investigation than can be expected from the local village’s solitary policeman. He’s the nice but ineffectual Tim (Nicholas Braun, making a better fist of an English accent than Jackman). Lily teams up with loner ram, Sebastian (Bryan Cranston), to look deeper into the long list of suspects. These include George’s estranged daughter, Rebecca (Molly Gordon), local innkeeper, Beth (Hong Chau), and fellow shepherd, Caleb (Tosin Cole), a man who is much happier to exploit the potential of turning sheep into cold cuts. And what about wannabe newspaper reporter, Elliot (Nicholas Galitzine)? Why is he taking such an interest in the case?

Initially, I’m somewhat underwhelmed by the WTF concept and have to confess that I do find some of the story’s more saccharin moments hard to endure. But as the film progresses, I’m increasingly drawn into the story, preposterous though it is. Director Kyle Balda has a background in animation and it must be said that the many sheep characters that populate the story all have their own distinct personalities. At no point am I ever confused by who is ewe (sorry) and that’s no easy matter when there are sometimes scores of the creatures onscreen. It’s also fair to say that the script is occasionally amusing – and sometimes surprising. A sequence where Lily and Mopple (Chris O’Dowd) have an unpleasant encounter with the sheep on Caleb’s farm turns quite dark.

But whether or not you’ll enjoy this hokum really does depend on you buying its central premise – that sheep aren’t as stupid as their reputation suggests. Ultimately, perhaps the biggest mystery here is how so many A list actors signed on the dotted line for the project. Patrick Stewart plays an elderly ram called Sir Richfield – doing an uncanny impersonation of his old pal Ian McKellan into the bargain – and even Emma Thompson shows up in a cameo role as George’s acerbic solicitor, Lydia Harbottle.

Judging by the sizeable crowd at the daytime screening I attend, The Sheep Detectives is likely to make a splash at the box office with flocks of youngsters keen to see it. But several older viewers make for the exit fifteen minutes in muttering, “Baaaa humbug!” and I can fully appreciate their position. This really is that fabled film that’s “not for everyone.”

3. 2 stars

Philip Caveney

Rose of Nevada

25/04/26

Cameo Cinema, Edinburgh

Cornish filmmaker Mark Jenkin may just be the most single-minded director currently working. Shooting his movies on wind-up 16mm Bolex cameras; adding all the dialogue and sound effects in post-production; writing the script; even composing the ethereal scores – it’s no surprise he’s so far produced only three full-length films. His debut, Bait (2019), was shot in black and white, but he switched to colour for Enys Men (2022), a weird folk-horror film that looked astonishing, even if it felt a little thin on story.

But with Rose of Nevada, everything finally falls into place, making this – for my money – his best offering yet. It looks extraordinary with the heightened colours of a vintage Super 8, while the intriguing time-slip storyline has me thinking about it long after I’ve left the cinema. It’s haunting in the best sense of the word.

Set in a run down, impoverished fishing village somewere in Cornwall, the story begins with the mysterious reappearance of the titular boat moored in the harbour. It has somehow returned after an absence of thirty years, apparently still in full working order. The boat was lost at sea along with its crew of three, an event that affected the entire community, but owner Mike (Edward Rowe) doesn’t hesitate to send it out again, after getting permission from Tina (Rosalind Eleazar), the widow of one of the lost men. But who will make up the crew?

Everything falls eerily into place. The Captain’s slot is filled in minutes when the mysterious ‘Murgey’ (Francis McGee) turns up asking if his services will be needed. Homeless drifter Liam (Callum Turner) is glad of anything that will earn him a few quid and keep him occupied for a while. And married man, Nick (George MacKay), needs to raise some cash in order to fix a hole in the roof of his house through which the rain is pouring, though he’s reluctant to leave his wife and little girl behind.

Out on the sea, the fishing is good – almost too good – and after hours of back-breaking toil, the crew return to the harbour to find the entire village waiting to greet them. And then it begins to dawn on them that an awful lot has changed since they were last on land…

I don’t want to reveal any more about the plot, though you’ll find plenty of other reviews that do exactly that. Suffice to say that, at its core, Rose of Nevada is all about the fishing industry, the devastating effect that Brexit has had upon it and the sense of community that somehow got lost in the process. It’s clearly a cause close to Jenkin’s heart as Bait covered similar territory – but here it’s all too easy to identify with Nick’s sense of mounting bewilderment, his doomed attempts to get back to the people he loves. To balance this, it’s understandable that Liam accepts his new role with such open enthusiasm, because it’s so much more agreeable than what he had before.

It’s these elements that could help this film achieve a much wider audience than its predecessors.

Yet, for all its appeal, the director’s unique style remains uncompromised. You can take any image and know instantly who has created it. But somehow Rose of Nevada is more than just another art project. It’s a genuinely compelling story with a powerful supernatural twist that, given half a chance, will surely get its hooks into you.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Lee Cronin’s The Mummy

22/04/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

“Lee Cronin? Who’s that?” I hear some of you ask. And it’s a fair question. The Irish director only has a few screen credits thus far, most recently a fairly decent reboot of the Evil Dead franchise. But, with a bigger, glossier, Brendan Fraser-led Mummy 4 on the cinematic horizon, his producers were clearly worried that there might be some confusion if the director’s name weren’t attached. And, before you argue that it’s pretty unlikely anybody would confuse the two projects, allow me to mention that I was recently at a screening of Riz Ahmed’s Hamlet, where several members of the audience stood up about ten minutes in and announced (loudly and indignantly) that they thought they’d booked to see Chloé Zhao’s Hamnet.

Go figure.

This version of the story is quite unlike any that’s gone before. In Cairo, Katie Cannon (Natalie Grace), the youngest daughter of news reporter Charlie (Jack Raynor) and his wife, Larissa (Laia Costa), is abducted by a mysterious woman, shortly before the family is due to move back to America for Charlie’s work. We know the kidnapping has something to do with Egyptian mythology, thanks to a short and fairly bloody opening sequence that’s not fully explained until later on. (Be warned: the film has an 18 certificate and is happy to flaunt it.) Meanwhile, Detective Dalia Zaki (May Calamawy) is determined to discover who kidnapped Katie and why.

Six years later, Katie is found wrapped up in bandages and lying in an ancient sarcophagus, which has been recovered from a plane crash in the desert. She’s somehow still alive but has changed dramatically both in looks and demeanour – and not for the better. Determined to do their best for her, Charlie and Larissa bring Katie home to Albuquerque to reunite her with her older brother and her new little sister. Yes, I know. Very bad idea, but then this is the kind of decision that parents always make in horror movies.

Katie is uncommunicative and has a nasty habit of getting out of her room at night to creep through the house, catching and eating insects – and it soon becomes clear that she has big plans for her family…

It’s pointless to say any more about the plot other than to mention that, if this film resembles any other horror franchise, it’s The Exorcist. Katie is to all intents and purposes possessed by an ancient demon and herdevout Catholic granny, Carmen (Veronica Falcón), is on hand to seize every opportunity to pray for her deliverance, usually with catastrophic results. While on the one hand, I do applaud Cronin’s attempts to steer the franchise away from its familiar roots – an approach he took with Evil Dead Rise – I have to say that transplanting it to the well-trodden territory of another cinematic classic may not have been the wisest move. Furthermore, though the film starts confidently enough, it becomes increasingly unpleasant, yet somehow never manages to be convincingly scary.

There’s a nail-cutting sequence that will definitely have you wincing and there’s enough blood, vomit and pus flying about the screen to put you right off your cinema snacks – but grossness isn’t the same thing as terror. I also worry that some of the scenes featuring Egyptian characters venture dangerously close to ‘othering’ territory.

Most damning of all, there are moments in the endlessly protracted climax that come across as downright laughable, as though Cronin is determined to gross out anyone who is still watching. Opinions are going to be divided. Those who judge a horror film on the amounts of type O that are spilled may be more supportive than me, but for my money this is a valiant effort that ultimately doesn’t come off. A shame. It remains to be seen if the upcoming Mummy 4 is worth the price of admittance, but I can’t help feeling that maybe it’s time somebody uttered those famous words.

‘It’s a wrap.’

3 stars

Philip Caveney

A Grain of Sand

12/03/26

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

A Grain of Sand is a moving narrative, drawn from the observations of children caught up in the conflict in Gaza. Commissioned by the London Palestine Film Festival, the piece is based around A Million Kites, a collection of poems and testimonies, complied by Leila Boukarim and Asaf Luzon. Adapted and directed by Elias Matar, the monologue is performed by actor Sarah Agha.

Agha is Maryam, playing in a circle of sand, an 11-year-old girl living happy and oblivious with her family on the Gaza Strip, until her home is suddenly torn apart by bombing. Maryam has always dreamed of being a storyteller and now, separated from those she loves, she finds herself wandering alone through the devastation, sharing her observations. Other children’s real-life testimonies are interwoven with Maryam’s memories of her life at home and the stories told to her by her beloved grandmother. This approach allows occasional moments of humour to illuminate a grim, distressing narrative.

Agha is a compelling performer and Natalie Pryce’s stark set design offers disturbing glimpses of the turmoil, projected onto a crumpled fabric backdrop. Nick Powell’s soundscapes intensify the terror of the situation. It’s sometimes hard to comprehend the scale of what’s happening in Gaza, but a final image puts everything into shocking perspective – the ranks of children’s names, together with their respective ages, spreading across the backdrop, illuminating the magnitude of the war.

It makes for uncomfortable viewing but I cannot look away.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Romeo and Juliet

12/02/26

Pleasance Theatre, Edinburgh

EUSC’s Romeo and Juliet sets out to perform the ‘world’s greatest love story’ without resorting to any of the tricks and gimmicks we’ve lately come to expect from such productions. You know the kind of thing. R&J, only it’s set in 1960’s Bradford – or R&J, as envisioned by Sergio Leone – on a trampoline. No, here it’s played completely straight and what’s more, we get the full text, which clocks in at over three hours in duration. There are twenty performers all giving it their best and there’s no faulting the lofty ambition that powers this production.

Of course, there’s also no disguising the fact that of the immortal bard’s many works, this one features one of his battiest ever plots. Welcome to Verona, where two rival families, the Montagues and the Capulets are gleefully slicing chunks off each other at every opportunity. Romeo (Sam Gearing), the son of Montague (Hal Hobson), wanders moodily through the carnage, observing the action but doing very little to help. He’s currently madly in love with Rosaline (Connie Bailie) who – rather awkwardly – is a Capulet, and therefore out of bounds. But after briefly bumping into Juliet (Anya McChristie) at a masked ball, he’s doesn’t hesitate to switch his affections to her instead… but naturally, she’s a Capulet too. Doh!

But why am I telling you all this? Everybody knows the story of the star-crossed lovers and most of us are familiar with the major players in the story. Director Salvador Kent handles all the characters with aplomb, but sometimes Ella Catherall’s sound design swamps important lines of dialogue – and while Jack Read’s lighting is often striking and atmospheric, too often the faces of actors are lost in the gloom as they recite their soliloquies..

I like the fact that the simple but striking set centres on that all-important balcony and I enjoy McChristie’s effusive and optimistic Juliet, who strides fearlessly into each successive plot twist. Rufus Goodman’s Benvolio meets every complication with a weary shrug and Noah Sarvesaran’s super-charged Mercutio is a particular delight, as he leaps and whirls around the stage as though defying gravity itself. (His death at the beginning of the second act makes me wish he could have hung on a bit longer). Hunter King has the necessary gravitas as Friar Laurence to deliver one of history’s most unbelievable plot devices with absolute authority. ‘Just drink this serum that will make you appear to be dead for two and forty hours and all will be well.’ What could possibly go wrong?

The swordplay scenes are a step up from the usual student productions thanks to the fight direction of Rebecca Mahar and Cooper Mortlock – but I’m rather less convinced by a decision to dress both Montague (Hal Hobson) and Capulet (Tai Remus-Elliot) in the same Chaplinesque costumes, their faces smeared with makeup. Is this to suggest that their characters are essentially interchangeable? I’m not entirely sure.

But overall, this is an admirable production that has much to commend it and the story (silly plot twists notwithstanding) is delivered in epic style.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Lord of the Flies

09/02/26

BBC iPlayer

We rarely review TV shows, but Marc Munden’s four-part series (adapted by Jack Thorne from William Golding’s 1954 novel) is undoubtedly cinematic in scope and, since we binge-watch the entire thing in one day, it seems like a no-brainer to register our reaction. The fact that I’ve been obsessed with the story since childhood is another powerful contributor to the ”yes, we should’ imperative.

I read the source novel in the early sixties when I was sequestered in a boarding school in Peterborough, a setting that felt to me every bit as savage as the one I was reading about. Add to the equation that twice a year I was being flown out to visit my parents in Malaysia (my Dad was in the RAF), and it’s hardly surprising that the idea of a passenger plane crashing and leaving me stranded on a remote island seemed entirely within the realms of possibility.

Of course, Lord of the Flies has been previously adapted, most notably by Peter Brooks in 1963, a stripped-back monochrome version of the story that blew me away on first viewing, and which still remains (in my humble opinion) one of the finest literary adaptations in cinema history. I must also grudgingly mention Harry Hook’s lamentable attempt to update the premise in 1990, which got pretty much everything wrong – and featured a Piggy so obnoxious that I felt compelled to cheer when his skull was crushed by that great big rock. (Surely not the effect that Mr Hook was going for…)

But surely no piece of fiction is so sacred that a newcomer can’t be allowed to have a shot at an adaptation. A recent comment I saw online complaining that remakes are ‘never the same’ struck me as particularly odd. Isn’t that the point? If a director hasn’t got something different to say, then why bother?

Having said that, this new version does retain a lot from the novel. It’s set in the same era and uses plenty of lines of original dialogue. The episodes are each seen from the perspective of one of the key characters. Piggy (David McKenna) sports a Northern Irish accent and has a predilection for quoting Groucho Marx, which instantly endears him to me (another obsession I developed at boarding school was a love of The Marx Brothers). McKenna emphasises Piggy’s vulnerability and his desperation to avoid being bullied, as well as his evident intelligence. Ralph (Winston Sawyers) is instantly likeable and some nicely-integrated flashbacks in his episode reveal aspects of his earlier life that go some way to explain why he is so nurturing to others.

Simon (Ike Talbut), always the most elusive character in the novel, displays elements that help to explain his troubled relationship with Jack (Lox Pratt). And Jack’s innate fear of failure, his rampant desire to be the winner at any cost, is cleverly conveyed. In the story’s latter stages, his ruthless decisions appear to echo the kinds of tyranny we’ve recently seen deployed on the streets of Minneapolis. And Sam ‘n’ Eric (Noah and Cassius Flemyng) surely typify the self-preservationists, who reluctantly go along with heinous events in order to save their own skins.

But the element that really shines in this version of the tale are the depictions of its jungle settings (filmed principally in Malaysia), particularly the night scenes where the surrounding ferns and trees are rendered blood red and occasionally seem to verge on the psychedelic. Likewise, Jack’s ‘hunters’ sport ever more bizarre costumes and adornments, until they begin to resemble creatures from some kind of obscure mythology, looking as if they’ve escaped from the underworld.

Okay, so perhaps this isn’t the perfect adaptation that Brooks delivered all those years ago, but it nevertheless makes for compelling and rewarding viewing. It’s proof, if ever it were needed, that a great piece of literature can always be successfully reinterpreted for a new age.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

Don Quixote is a Very Big book

08/02/25

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

Don Quixote is a Very Big Book is not just a title – it’s also a fact, as anybody who has ever attempted to read their way through its 1000+ pages will surely attest. Dik Downey, the man behind Opposable Thumb Theatre, has read every single one of them. But, as he happily admits, the main reason he set out to dramatise what’s often hailed as ‘the world’s first novel’ is the fact that he purchased a really great suit of armour (unused!) from some guy on eBay and figured this would be the best use of it.

So here he is, on stage at The Traverse as part of the Manipulate Festival, gamely buckling on said armour (which looks like it weighs a ton) and proudly explaining how he will single-handedly perform the entire book, complete with a horse, a donkey, a faithful squire and a climactic battle with a great big flipping windmill. 

Downey is an affable narrator with a penchant for making quirky puppets, which he utilises to help tell his stories. He openly admits to us that he’s knocking on a bit now and is worried that the piece might be too much for him, but he’s still game for an epic tale that won’t skimp on the details. And as the heavy armour goes on piece-by-piece, we begin to appreciate the tenacity of the man, and the way (rather like Quixote himself) Downey steadfastly refuses to accept that this epic undertaking might be beyond his abilities.

DQIAVBB delivers a charming and gently amusing hour upon the stage. Downey staggers back and forth, interacting with his appreciative crowd, choosing one of them to ‘Knight’ him. When he notices ‘Dulcinea’ siting in the front row, he performs a silly, ramshackle dance for her that soon starts to go wrong and has me laughing out loud. I also find myself admiring the ingenuity of the aforementioned puppets (‘it’s all done with magnets,’ Downey informs us at one point) and there’s a significant moment in the proceedings where Quixote struggles to get back to his feet for a very VERY long time, and I find myself wondering if I should run down the steps to the stage and lend him a hand. Which I suspect may be the point.

While this is an enjoyable and lighthearted performance – I laugh pretty much from start to finish – it’s also tinged with sadness at the iniquities of old age. And if you think that you need a massive special effects budget to depict a mounted knight doing battle with a windmill, think again. It’s amazing what you can do with papier maché and sticky-back plastic. 

Oh, and by the way, back in the day, I did try to read Don Quixote and gave up after a few chapters. This piece is (happily) much more accessible.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Is This Thing On?

31/01/26

Cineworld, Edinburgh

A man walks into a bar…

Except, it’s not just a bar, it’s a comedy club – and there’s a $15 entrance fee.

Unless you’re there to perform.

It’s been a long and messy night, and Alex Novak (Will Arnett) doesn’t have $15 to hand. But, high on alcohol and edibles, he’s sure his gift of the gab will be enough to get him through a ten-minute open mic spot. Sure enough, although he doesn’t exactly crush it, he does earn a few laughs, and he finds the experience surprisingly therapeutic.

And therapy is just what Alex needs. Recently separated from his wife, Tess (Laura Dern), he’s struggling to cope with living alone in his apartment and being a part-time dad. What’s more, everyone seems convinced that he’s to blame for his marriage breaking down, which he doesn’t think is fair at all. He and Tess have simply grown apart; they’ve split by mutual consent. With friends and family making their disapproval known, the comedy circuit feels like a safe space for Alex to meet people and grapple with his new reality.

Is This Thing On?, directed by Bradley Cooper, is loosely based on the life of British comedian, John Bishop, although the only overt reference to the Merseyside comic is a single scene where Alex sports an incongruous Liverpool FC vest. In his mid-30s, Bishop tried his hand at stand-up while briefly separated from his wife, Melanie; by the time they reconciled, he’d caught the comedy bug and, within a few years, was pursuing a fruitful career as a full-time comic.

Ironically, Bishop’s real-life story is more interesting than the Hollywood version, which is resolutely low-key, and never actually shows us Novak performing a killer gig. In reality, Bishop is hugely successful: he’s a household name in the UK, and his arena tours always sell out. Although Arnett and Dern both perform their roles with consummate skill, there never appears to be much at stake. It would help if we saw Novak’s sets improve, if we could catch a glimpse of the comedic skill that has propelled Bishop into the spotlight.

In addition, the script (co-written by Cooper, Arnett and Mark Chappell) doesn’t flesh out the characters enough: they don’t appear to have lives beyond the scenes we see. We’re told that Novak “works in finance” but we never see the impact of his late-night hobby on his day-job; in fact, he never refers to work at all. He’s a friendly, outgoing character: surely he’d have friends among his colleagues? And the juggling of a demanding job, fatherhood and an all-consuming new passion would make his struggle a lot more compelling.

All in all, this is an enjoyable movie, but not an entirely satisfying one.

3.6 stars

Susan Singfield