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The 1902 Bar & Grill, Dunmuir Hotel

23/07/23

Newhouse Terrace, Dunbar

We’re meeting up with a couple friends in Dunbar and they’ve booked the four of us in for lunch at The 1902 Bar and Grill, a pleasant dining space in the Dunmuir Hotel, a short walk from where they live. It’s Sunday afternoon and the place is pleasantly busy. The 1902 offers traditional food with a contemporary twist and we’re warned that, since everything is cooked to order, there might be a bit of a wait, so we settle happily down to chat.

We eschew the idea of starters – though they do look pretty enticing – and, as one of the offerings on the menu is a Sunday roast, both Susan and one of our companions decide to go for that. It arrives looking pretty glorious, a generous helping of rare beef accompanied by all the trimmings: roast potatoes, creamed leeks, carrots, broccoli, horseradish sauce and a huge crispy Yorkshire pudding. I have opted for rump of lamb and this too is pretty unctuous, succulent chunks of rare meat accompanied by broccoli, heritage carrots, creamed leeks (again), a nicely-done fondant potato and a delicious haggis bon bon. There’s also a jug of red wine jus, which is quite simply delicious. Meanwhile, our other companion is tucking into a splendid slice of seared halibut, which comes with a dollop of caviar and half a dozen mussels on a bed of mixed vegetables. He pronounces it ‘delightful’ and makes very short work of it.

One of the advantages of skipping the starter is, of course, the fact that we’ve got plenty of room for pudding and The 1902 offers a tempting selection. Susan chooses the strawberry custard tart, which is as pretty as a picture and happily tastes every bit as good as it looks. I’ve been unable to resist an old favourite, sticky toffee pudding, though this version is made with banana, an inspired addition, which adds an extra kick of sweetness to the dish. (As if it needs extra sweetness – but I’m not complaining!) Both puddings come with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and both are consumed to the last crumb.

I can’t fault anything we have; everything is perfectly cooked and beautifully presented. Should you find yourself in Dunbar in the near future, this charming bar and grill is well worth seeking out.

4.5 stars

Philip Caveney

Oppenheimer

22/07/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

What do you do the day after you’ve seen Barbie? You watch Oppenheimer, of course, because some bright spark has decided that, as these two completely disparate films share the same release date, they shall henceforth be known as Barbenheimer. Well, fair enough. I’m just pleased to see the cinemas bustling again, which at least gives me some hope for their future. And I have the sense to see the films over two days, rather than as a bizarre double-bill.

Where Barbie was lighthearted and vivacious, Oppenheimer is deadly serious stuff, a biopic of the man who gave humanity the atomic bomb, along with the distinct possibility of destroying the planet we inhabit. Furthermore, with a running time of three hours, it’s clear that director Christopher Nolan wants us to ponder the titular character’s life in some considerable detail.

Nolan – still smarting, no doubt – from the underwhelming critical response for his previous offering, Tenet, has pulled out all the stops here, choosing to shoot the film using IMAX cameras. This at first seems an odd decision for a film where men in suits talk about physics but Nolan constantly cuts away to dazzling optical displays of nuclear fission, fizzing and popping like surreal fireworks, and there are impressive recreations of Los Alamos in New Mexico.

Ludwig Göransson’s score also impresses though it occasionally underpins some quite complicated dialogue (just as it did in Tenet) and I find myself wishing it would pipe down a bit. Just saying.

Cillian Murphy plays J. Robert Oppenheimer with considerable presence, managing to portray him convincingly at various stages of his life, from wide-eyed young student of physics to embittered elder statesman. Emily Blunt is quietly impressive as his wife, Kitty, and Robert Downey Junior is delightfully devious as Lewis Strauss, the man who sets Oppenheimer on the path to his ultimate destiny. The film boasts a massive cast that positively bristles with A listers, so many it feels pointless to mention them all – but I’ll make an exception for the assured performance of Matt Damon as Lt General Leslie Groves, the man who appointed Oppenheimer to oversee the Manhattan Project.

The screenplay, written by Nolan, sweeps confidently backwards and forwards through Oppenheimer’s chronology, never confusing and constantly throwing out disturbing questions about the nature of mankind’s eternal hubris. The potential danger that the complicated science might be hard to follow is not allowed to become a problem.

Ultimately, the central character emerges as a martyr, a brilliant man encouraged and seduced by the powers that be, then rejected and used as their scapegoat. Murphy’s chiselled features seem to stare out of that giant screen as if appealing for understanding for the torture he’s going through, the awful weight of responsibility resting on those narrow shoulders. I know little about Oppenheimer before I see this film and am now fascinated to learn more.

Oppenheimer keeps me hooked throughout and sometimes does the near impossible, creating suspense for an event I already know the outcome of. While this doesn’t quite measure up to Nolan’s finest work, it’s nonetheless an impressive film that deserves the plaudits it’s receiving.

And if it isn’t quite as assured as it’s shocking pink stablemate, well, this is a much tougher tale to tell… and a harder one to stomach.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Barbie

21/07/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

I was never much of a Barbie girl. In 1970s Britain, Sindy was the gal du jour, although I didn’t play with my Nurse version of her very often. Despite my indifference, the original grown-up doll – brainchild of Ruth Handler, played here by Rhea Perlman – has more than endured, securing herself a place in the cultural fabric of the western world, at once an impossible ideal and an inspiration, a symbol of toxic beauty standards and glass-ceiling-busting possibility. Barbie’s dilated body, with its uneven weight distribution, might mean that she can’t really support her head and that walking upright is near impossible, but hey, she’s a dentist, an astronaut, a mermaid – even a freakin’ president. Little girls can project a lot more onto her than they ever could onto a Tiny Tears.

And who else but Greta Gerwig could harness this wonderful contradiction and turn it into a pink-fuelled picture, as fierce and funny as it is feminist? This is a clever, sassy, two-hour romp of a movie – and, despite the relentless hype that’s preceded it, it doesn’t disappoint.

Margot Robbie’s ‘Stereotypical Barbie’ is the standard edition, the one we all think of first when we hear those two bilabial plosives. She was clearly born for the role, not just because of her particular brand of gorgeousness, but because she’s got the acting chops as well, imbuing the plastic goddess with humour, strength and vulnerability.

At first, it’s business as usual in Barbieland: the sun is shining, the beach is calling, and every night is girls’ night, with all the many iterations of Barbie just hanging out and having fun. The only doll who’s even slightly unhappy is Ken (Ryan Gosling), who’d love to spend the night with his girlfriend, even though he’s not sure why or what they’d do to pass the time. But then, out of nowhere, Barbie starts to think dark thoughts. What’s happening? Are those… tears? Before she knows it, she’s off to the Real World on what she assumes will be a simple mission to put things right. After all, she’s Barbie, isn’t she? There’s nothing she can’t achieve…

Gerwig doesn’t just walk the thin line between celebrating and critiquing Barbie: she jumps up and down on it, turning somersaults and waving cheekily. “If you love Barbie, this movie’s for you,” says the trailer. “If you hate Barbie, this movie’s for you.” It’s true.

Gosling and Robbie are both excellent comic actors, and the script – by Gerwig and Noah Baumbach – is whip smart, providing plenty of laughter as well as food for thought. The supporting cast are very good too, especially Kate McKinnon as punky outsider ‘Weird Barbie’ and America Ferrera and Ariana Greenblatt as Real World mother and daughter duo, Gloria and Sasha. Helen Mirren voices the omniscient narrator, who adds to the arch knowingness of the film, which – to my mind – is no bad thing. The choreography is as bold and vivid as any Barbie girl could wish (although perhaps the Ken dance routine overstays its welcome), but it’s the costumes and set that really linger in the memory, a series of candy floss confections, liberally dusted with glitter.

The showing we’re at is pleasingly busy, even though it’s 10 o’clock on a Friday morning. There are lots of families here, as well as couples, groups of women, and plenty of people on their own. It really is for everyone. So come on Barbie, let’s go party: dig out whatever pink stuff you have lurking in your wardrobe, and head on down to your nearest cinema.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Wham!

13/07/23

Netflix

This will surprise a lot of people but Wham! were not really one of the bands I followed back in their heyday. Oh, I was aware of them – indeed, it was hard to miss them in the four years of the 1980s that marked their meteoric rise to stardom and their unexpected demise.

This account, cleverly assembled from a mixture of archive footage, Top of the Pops appearances and the many scrapbooks collated by Andrew Ridgeley’s mum, has been herded into shape by director Chris Smith and the result makes for entertaining – and occasionally thought-provoking – viewing.

This is the story of two young schoolkids, the aforementioned Andrew and his best pal Georgios Kyriacos Panayioto (a name that would soon be changed to George Michael). The boys got into all the usual childhood scrapes but also developed a determination to be pop stars, an ambition led by Andrew and ably supported by George. Together they wrote some songs. We get to hear the originals, recorded on cassette tapes and, while they’re rough and ready, there’s already the spark of a hummable melody in there. Now all they need is a record company…

When Wham Rap! first hit the scene in 1982, it didn’t exactly set the charts alight – but the boys’ determination knew no bounds and it wasn’t long before the duo were toothily gracing every teen pop magazine in existence. They also drafted in backing singers Dee C. Lee (later replaced by Pepsi) and Shirley to broaden their appeal and, together, the four of them made a series of exhausting public appearances at clubs up and down the UK. And, as each of those early songs was given a thorough reworking and some decent production values, the hits began to flow like honey.

But as we’re watching, something quickly becomes apparent. One of the duo has a talent that easily outpaces the other. A talent for songwriting, performing and producing. And there can really only be one logical conclusion…

What connects most powerfully in this true account of male friendship, is that Andrew has to be one of the most benign and forgiving human beings in history, willing to grant his best friend artistic freedom, even if it means turning his back on the megastardom he’s enjoying himself. There are plenty of people willing to criticise George for some of the things that happened to him after he went solo, but Andrew isn’t one of them. Having led his friend into the limelight, he doesn’t hesitate to set him free. We could all do with learning that lesson.

Wham! wisely concerns itself with the years 1982 to 1986, finishing up with the band’s massive farewell tour. There were plenty of other successes awaiting George Michael further down the line – and some much darker times too – but this film doesn’t go there. What’s on the screen is cheering, celebratory and occasionally heartwarming stuff, which – of course – only makes the ensuing tragedy all the more heartbreaking. It surprises me to admit that this documentary makes me appreciate the band more than I ever did when they were at the height of their success.

You don’t have to be a Wham! fan to enjoy this extraordinary true story but, that said, if you happen to be one anyway, then it’s win-win.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning Part One

10/07/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Most long-running movie franchises start strong and steadily run out of steam. The Mission Impossible series, however, seems to be running in reverse. It kicked off way back in 1996 (inspired by Bruce Gellar’s groundbreaking 1960s TV series). Even with seasoned director Brian De Palma at the helm, the results were sort of so-so. Each successive film tried a new director with similar results and it wasn’t until Christopher McQuarrie came aboard for 2015’s Rogue Nation that the gears finally began to mesh. Indeed, 2018’s Fallout was an adrenalin-fuelled, five-star smash and I really didn’t see how McQuarrie and everybody’s favourite Sandi Toksvig-lookalike, Tom Cruise, could ever hope to reach such stratospheric heights again.

My doubts are reinforced when it’s revealed that Dead Reckoning is only Part One of a story. While I understand that films continually strive for ‘bigger’, if a tale cannot be fully encapsulated within the confines of a 163 minute running-time, then surely something is amiss?

But I’m happy to report that I’m wrong on this score. The latest instalment might not be the perfectly-crafted beast that was its predecessor, but it nonetheless runs a pretty close second.

This time around, the antagonist is not a person so much as a thing: an AI creation known as The Entity. (Brilliant timing on this, I have to say, with everyone and his dog looking at ChatGPT and predicting imminent doom.) When we first witness The Entity’s powers, it is taking out a Soviet nuclear submarine and pushing the world to the brink of destruction, so it’s pretty clear that Ethan Hunt and his merry crew are going to have their work cut out to bring this mission to a satisfactory conclusion.

Said merry crew includes old hands, Luther (Ving James), Benji (Simon Pegg) and Ilsa (Rebecca Ferguson), and there’s also new recruit, Grace (Hayley Atwell), a talented pickpocket but – as it transpires – a pretty average driver. The boo-hiss brigade features the return of The White Witch (Vanessa Kirby), who is as smirkingly horrible as ever. The McGuffin this time around is a pair of interlocking keys, which have somehow become separated from each other. When combined, they will grant the possessor access to the sunken submarine where The Entity is currently housed. But the AI has a human ambassador called Gabriel (Esai Morales), who is accompanied everywhere by his enigmatic hit-woman, Paris (Pom Klementieff, without her Guardians of the Galaxy antennae). This formidable duo will go to any lengths to thwart Ethan.

Meanwhile, Hunt’s employer, Kittridge (Henry Czerny), continues to be as fiendish and unpredictable as the villains he’s supposedly trying to defeat. Which side is he on, anyway? I’m still not entirely sure.

As ever, the extremely complex plot is mostly an excuse to link together a whole smorgasbord of action set-pieces, which somehow manage to feel fresh and innovative, no matter how mundane they sound when listed: car chases and countdowns, punch-ups and explosions, mix-ups and murders – and, of course, Tom Cruise running across a variety of landscapes like Mo Farrah on poppers. All the usual suspects are here for your delectation and, it must be said, they are brilliantly executed. A final confrontation aboard an out-of-control Orient Express racks up the tension to such an unbearable degree, I’m virtually chewing my own fingers off.

And then…. Lalo Schifrin’s immortal theme music kicks in, the credits roll and, against all expectations, I find I’m still up for another instalment. Honestly, I can’t wait. Except I’ll have to. Dead Reckoning Part Two is currently scheduled for June 2024 and I’ll be one of the first in the queue – assuming AI hasn’t taken over mankind by then and turned us all into human kitty litter.

Just saying.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Nimona

30/06/23

Netflix

Nimona is clearly a film with a charmed life. Originally set up as a Disney+ release, the production found itself summarily dismissed even as it neared completion. Perhaps a story with a unapologetically gay hero and his gender (and species) fluid sidekick made the House of Mouse a tad too nervous for comfort. Happily, the production wasn’t left stranded for too long, because in stepped Anapurna and Netflix to save the day – and it’s evident why they felt this project was worth saving.

Set in a fantasy world where swords and shields happily co-exist with flat screen TVs and mobile phones, Nimona focuses on the story of Ballister Boldheart (voiced by Riz Ahmed), an enterprising young ‘commoner’ who is offered the opportunity to become a member of the Elite Knights by Queen Valerin (Lorraine Toussaint). The monarch is looking to change a process that dates back to the founding of the order, when a heroic young woman called Gloreth saved the kingdom from a rampaging monster. But when Ballister is framed for a terrible crime, he cannot find anybody to back him up: not even his boyfriend, Ambrosius Goldenloin (Eugene Lee Yang), himself a descendent of Gloreth and everybody’s favourite young hero.

Enter Nimona (Chloë Grace Moretz), a motormouthed shapeshifter, who has decided that Ballister could do with a little help – whether he wants it or not – and that what he needs more than anything else is a sidekick. It’s the growing relationship between these two characters that forms the true heart of this irreverent and very funny feature. Directed by Nick Bruno and Troy Quane , Nimona is based on a graphic novel by Nate Stevenson, and boasts an eye-catching hybrid style that treads a tricky line between 2D and hyper-realistic animation that somehow blends together with absolute authority.

Of course, there’s an allegorical subtext to what’s happening here. Nimona’s comments about never fitting comfortably into the normative world in which she’s obliged to live are telling – but, happily, I never feel like I’m being beaten around the head with the film’s message. On the contrary, I’m thoroughly entertained by what’s on the screen and constantly delighted by the clever twists the story features.

Whatever the true reasons for its cancellation, Disney’s loss is ultimately Netflix’s gain. I haven’t been so seduced by an animated feature since Across the Spider-Verse, and, if Nimona isn’t quite in that exalted league, it’s certainly not far behind it.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Still: A Michael J Fox Movie

20/05/23

Apple TV

The name Michael J Fox is synonymous with three things: Marty McFly; a teenage, basketball-playing werewolf; and Parkinson’s disease. Mega-famous in the 1980s for smash hit films Back to the Future and Teen Wolf, Fox is just as well-known these days for his candid communications about living with a degenerative brain disorder. This inventive documentary, by Davis Guggenheim, is revelatory – about Fox, as well as about Parkinson’s.

Fox has always exuded on-screen warmth. He’s the epitome of likeable: wry, self-deprecating and funny. Whatever role I’ve seen him in, he brings these qualities to bear. Watching Still, it soon becomes apparent that that’s just who he is, which isn’t to denigrate his acting ability: he’s played a range of types – but always with a hint of sweetness shining through.

Guggenheim’s biopic is thoughtful and meandering, cutting between past and present, making clever use of film clips to illustrate key details of Fox’s life and character. From tiny live-wire working-class Canadian kid to tiny live-wire Hollywood star, we see how Fox’s kinetic energy (and general niceness) propelled him to success. It also enables him to live contentedly: unusually for someone in his career, he’s sustained a long and happy marriage and is clearly close to his four kids. Fox’s wife, Tracy Pollan, is an actor too (they met on hit TV show Family Ties) and the pair seem truly devoted. It’s lovely to see.

In some ways, the film is harrowing, because it doesn’t pull any punches about the realities of living with Parkinson’s. Fox falls over a lot and hurts himself when he lands: he’s broken all the bones around his left eye. He shakes uncontrollably, all the time; he struggles to walk. He relies on medication, very aware of when it’s wearing off and he needs his next pill. He has a lot of physio, which helps to keep him mobile. Presumably Parkinson’s sufferers without his kind of money can’t access quite so much one-to-one therapy; even with it, things are tough.

But in other ways, the film is uplifting, because – while it steadfastly avoids the ‘disabled person as inspiration’ trope – it also shows how the condition doesn’t really change the man. Michael is still very much Michael, with the same twinkle, the same humour, the same candour.

It’s fascinating to listen to him describe the tricks he employed in the early days of his diagnosis (aged only 29), when he was desperate to hide his tremors from the world. Once you know what he’s doing, footage from Spin City, the TV show he was making back then, takes on a whole new significance.

Still is a weirdly feelgood film – a testimony to a life well-lived.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield

Love the Sinner

17/05/23

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

The seven deadly sins have been a source of inspiration for many writers over the centuries. This fabulous interpretation from poet/performer Imogen Stirling gives them a powerful contemporary relevance. Conceived during lockdown, it’s an assured piece of gig theatre, which takes those seven infamous traits and reimagines them as everyday people, living in a contemporary city beset by a near-apocalyptic rainstorm. We’re in Glasgow and the Clyde is threatening to burst its banks.

It’s here that our protagonist, Sloth, finally stirs herself from the bed she’s been lying in for far too long and ventures out onto the rain-lashed streets to attend a party hosted by her friend, Gluttony. Stirling’s playful and incisive words evoke a whole series of familiar tropes – the social-media obsessed millennial, the guilt-afflicted porn addict, the business-centred entrepreneur intent on looking good at all times. But these are more than just stock characters: Stirling’s astute words skewer them, imbuing each of them with a cinematic clarity, bringing them to life as she reveals their flaws and strengths.

This is by no means a solo endeavour. Stirling’s verbal observations are accompanied by musician Sonia Killmann’s ominous soundscapes. She sits front of stage, conjuring pulsing, vibrant music and occasionally lending her vocals to Stirling as they sing together in lilting harmony. Behind the performers, Ellie Thompson’s enthralling video and projection designs offer atmospheric images of the city at night and tantalising glimpses of out-of-focus characters reacting to Stirling’s monologue. Matthew Lenton directs the whole endeavour with great skill, helming the piece to its powerful and frenetic conclusion.

As the last chords fade, I find myself applauding enthusiastically with the rest of the packed audience and wishing there could be some kind of encore – but how would you follow this?

Love the Sinner is a mesmerising piece of theatre. Catch it if you can.

4. 6 stars

Philip Caveney

Evil Dead Rise

23/04/23

Cineworld, Edinburgh

True confession time. I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for The Evil Dead.

In 1981, Sam Raimi’s original movie, made for shirt buttons and starring his best buddy, Bruce Campbell, made a big impact on my younger movie-going self. The fact that, on its initial release, it became ensnared in the Government’s absurd ‘video-nasty’ ban only served to make it a cause célèbre and, when it finally earned itself a proper release, it made tons of money. The sequel in 1987 allowed the duo to make the film they’d always wanted to, with a much bigger budget and a welcome dose of added humour. And finally, 1992’s Army of Darkness (AKA The Medieval Dead) offered a conclusion that was so bat-shit crazy it finished off the trilogy in entertaining style.

It’s undeniably a tough act to follow – as director Fede Alvarez discovered in 2013, when he attempted a revamp, which came and went without making much of a splash – but Irish writer/director Lee Cronin’s Evil Dead Rise (what happened to the The, I wonder?) jumps headlong into a spirited reimagining without pausing to ask if it’s a good idea. The presence of an 18 certificate suggests that this isn’t going to be the kind of movie that judiciously cuts away from the gore – and so proves to be the case. Those of a nervous disposition, please be warned that this is harrowing stuff.

We open, as ever, in a remote lakeside cabin where three holiday makers are having a bad time. If this short pre-credit sequence suffers from a case of ‘seen it all before’, then the following action, which backtracks 24 hours, does feel markedly more original, transplanting the action to a scuzzy high rise apartment in Los Angeles.

It’s here that, upon finding that she’s pregnant, guitar technician, Beth (Lily Sullivan), arrives in search of her estranged sister, Ellie (Alyssa Sutherland), who has recently suffered a breakup with her partner. Ellie seems to be a contender for struggling parent of the year, attempting to raise her three kids, Bridgette (Gabrielle Echols), Danny (Morgan Davies) and cute but weird little ‘un Kassie (Nell Fisher) in a condemned apartment that’s due to be closed down sometime in the near future. A power cut promptly ensues. What else to do then but send the kids out to collect some takeaway pizza?

Things head in an even more dodgy direction when a sudden earthquake opens up fissures in the street, revealing an ancient underground bank vault, festooned with crucifixes. Danny can’t resist going down there for a quick recce and emerges with some old LP records and a very familiar-looking book… yep. you guessed it. That book. Don’t bring it home, Danny! Don’t… ah well. He brings it home. Of course he does.

All too soon, Ellie has become infected by the powers of evil and is happily attempting to chow down on her offspring. It falls to Beth to try and protect them. But trapped in the apartment, with stairways and elevators destroyed by the quake, how can she and her young charges ever hope to escape from the now demented Ellie, who is hellbent on their destruction?

I won’t lie to you. What follows is hard to watch – an exercise in nerve-shredding, no-holds-barred mayhem. If the aim of the exercise is to horrify, then Cronin succeeds in spades. Susan later admits to having seen only forty minutes or so of the film, spending the remainder of the running time with her hands over her eyes. For those made of sterner stuff, there are decapitations, eviscerations and the use of a cheese grater in a style you’re unlikely to see on Masterchef. Viewers in the know (and we are legion) will spot occasional nods to the original trilogy that feel more like homages than copycats – and there’s one great big reference to Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining, just for fun. Oh yes, Bruce Campbell – who executive produced the film along with Raimi – makes a sort of cameo in this film. See if you can spot him!

I am suitably entertained (if that’s the right word) and emerge from the screening feeling that, if filmmakers must insist on rebooting former glories rather than coming up with new ideas, then Evil Dead Rise is more successful than many revamps that have gone before. But one thing’s for certain: this isn’t a film for the faint-hearted.

3. 8 stars

Philip Caveney

Wish You Were Dead

04/04/23

Festival Theatre, Edinburgh

Even hardworking police officers deserve a holiday now and then, which is why Inspector Roy Grace (George Rainsford), his wife, Cleo (Giovanna Fletcher), and their baby son, Noah, are visiting a remote château south of Paris. They’ve brought their resourceful American friend, Kaitlynn (Gemma Stryan), with them to act as chief babyminder. But a combination of bad weather conditions and terrible traffic means that they arrive at their destination far later than scheduled. They’ve been expecting to meet up with Kaitlynn’s boyfriend, Jack, but there seems to be no sign of him – and the place they’ve chosen as their stopover really isn’t what they were expecting. For one thing it’s a chambre d’hôte (a kind of glorified Airbnb) and, what’s more, there’s something very odd going on here…

This sixth stage adaptation of Peter James’ successful Inspector Grace crime series began life as a novella, inspired by a holiday from hell that James and his real life wife endured back in the day. It opens like one of those Bloodbath in the House of Death horror spoofs that we’re all so familiar with. It’s a dark and stormy night; there’s a creepy looking interior complete with a suit of armour; there are baleful paintings on every wall and (quelle horreur!) no internet reception! But any laughter generated here is entirely unintentional. The would-be holidaymakers keep stumbling across ominous clues and, as the plot slowly unravels, a tale of deception and cold revenge is gradually revealed.

But there are issues: too much of the dialogue doubles as exposition and too much of that dialogue is delivered in a declamatory style – while the presence of a swaggering bad guy with an old axe to grind (though decently played by Clive Mantle) is a familiar device I’ve seen too often for comfort.

As events steadily mount to a crescendo, complete with artlessly telegraphed ‘twists’ and decidedly unlikely decisions on the part of the villains of the story, I feel my patience wearing perilously thin. Michael Holt’s set design is impressive and deserves a better tale than the one that’s offered here. The ‘upstairs room’, glimpsed through a gauze screen, is a nice touch – though I’m pretty sure it was used in the previous James adaptation, Looking Good Dead.

In the end, I decide that this production is aimed at avid Peter James fans (of whom there are many) but, if I’m entirely honest, it’s really not for me.

2.5 stars

Philip Caveney