Carry-On

16/12/25

Netflix

Apart from that unfortunate title – which inevitably calls to mind a series of vintage comedies starring the likes of Sid James and Hattie Jacques – Carry-On is a tense, propulsive thriller, anchored by a dramatically beefed-up Taron Egerton. It’s directed by Jaume Collet-Serra, the man who put Liam Neeson on the train journey to hell in The Commuter.

This is a Christmas movie in the same way that Die Hard is a Christmas movie. That is to say, the action of the film takes place on Christmas Eve and there are some strategically-placed seasonal songs. But it must also be mentioned that, in this story of an evil man trying to explode a case containing Novichok on a packed holiday airplane, love and peace are in decidedly short supply. Which is not to say this isn’t great fun. I personally had a ball with it, but I appreciate it won’t be to everyone’s taste.

Ethan Kopek (Egerton) works at LAX Airport in security. He and his partner, Nora (Sofia Carson), are soon to have an addition to their family, so Ethan understandably has promotion on his mind. To this end, he manages to persuade his boss, Phil Sarkowski (Dean Norris), to let him take a post in the baggage-scanning lane, which carries extra responsibility. Which is an understatement, because Ethan has unwittingly upset the meticulously-laid plans of ‘The Traveller’ (Jason Bateman). He has planned to get the aforementioned Novichok aboard a New York-bound flight and explode it, killing the two hundred and fifty passengers aboard. His excuse for doing so? Somebody is paying an awful lot of money for his services. (The Traveller appears to regard his fellow human beings as disposable items.)

Ethan soon has a stranger’s voice in his ear, instructing him to allow the lethal suitcase onto the plane or risk having Nora murdered. The Traveller’s equally loathsome partner, The Watcher (Theo Rossi), has his eye on her and a sniper rifle loaded and ready to go. Meanwhile, elsewhere, plucky cop Elena Cole (Danielle Deadwyler) has picked up the faintest trace of a clue at the scene of a recent murder and begins to think that something dodgy might be about to go down.

But it’s Christmas Eve and nobody wants to listen…

What ensues is Ethan desperately trying to outmanoeuvre the two villains by any means at his disposal, without incurring his partner’s death (so no pressure there). Elena gradually works out the clues that bring her closer and closer to the airport. But time is ticking steadily away. Is it already too late to stop this frightful incident from occurring?

Collet-Serra and writer T.J. Fixman provide a tale that has more twists than a python on itching powder and the many Christmas references are almost mockingly thrown at the viewer as the story unfolds. (A particular highpoint for me is a no-holds-barred punch up in a speeding automobile as Wham’s Last Christmas pumps out of the car stereo.) Buckle-up for a wild ride!

If some of the elements are a little too familiar – Ethan desperately trying to defuse a bomb as the timer counts steadily down to zero – the presentation always feels fresh enough to make you forgive these occasional transgressions. Is it believable? Well, no, not really, but that’s hardly the object of the exercise. I do like the fact that Fixman has the good sense not to push my credulity too far. People get shot/stabbed/poisoned here and they don’t keep reviving and coming back for more. Which makes for a welcome change.

Meanwhile, Egerton, who has never really convinced in his previous attempts to fill an action-hero role, is utterly convincing in Carry-On and, since this is a Netflix original, it’s there to watch whenever you’re ready to hit the start button.

Those who favour a heart-warming seasonal tale might prefer to wait for Wallace and Gromit.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney

Emilia Pérez

11/12/24

Netflix

Jacques Audiard has always been an interesting and experimentlal writer/director, seeming to choose his projects at random and rarely sticking to a particular genre, throughout a career that began back in the early 90s. Emilia Pérez deals with the kind of subject matter that would frighten off many respected filmmakers. It’s a bizarre soap opera/fable about crime cartels, gender reassignment and the plight of ‘The Disappeared,’ the millions of people murdered by Mexican cartels. 

Oh, and did I mention that it’s also a musical?

Audiard throws himself headlong into the process with his usual glee and the upshot is that the film is being garlanded with nominations for all the big movie awards – and this at a time when many veteran directors are struggling to get their new projects even funded. If the object of the exercise is to get yourself noticed, Audiard is finally doing it big time. (His last film, The Sisters Brothers, an intriguing offbeat western, came and went with barely a ripple.)

Rita (Zoe Saldana) is an under-appreciated Mexican lawyer, who spends most of her time penning eloquent pleas to get the guilty off the hook. Out of the blue, she is contacted by notorious crime cartel boss. Manitas del Monte (played by trans actor, Karlas Sofia Gascón), a man so steeped in violence he now feels he has only one way of escaping an inevitable fate. He has always longed to be a woman, and wants Rita to secretly arrange gender reassignment for him. In return, he will make her fabulously wealthy and she can choose whatever future she wishes for herself. But Manitas will have to fake his own death and his wife, Jessi (Selena Gomez), and his two young boys can know nothing of their father’s new life.

Four years later, Rita meets Manitas again, but now she’s the titular Emilia, looking to reconnect with her wife and children by posing as the cousin they never knew they had. What’s more, Emilia wishes to atone for all the killing she instigated when she was Manitas…

Is Emilia Pérez a good film? Well, for me it has flashes of brilliance, but there are also some sizeable missteps. The songs, composed by Clément Ducol and Camille range from upbeat dance tunes to quirky half-spoken, half-sung observations about anatomy that sometimes veer close to the absurd. While these serve to highlight the fairytale unreality of the piece, the constant shifting of tone makes the film feel uneven. The ‘Mexican’ locations are pretty convincingly recreated (in France) by cinematographer Paul Guilhaume and I think the elements dealing with The Disappeared are genuinely moving. On the performance front, Saldana is an absolute powerhouse as the very adaptable Rita, singing and dancing up a storm – and it’s great to see her performing as a human being rather than as a green-skinned, spandex-clad alien!

As a cis male, I might have missed some of the nuances around the transgender elements of the story – and Gascón certainly delivers a compelling and heartfelt performance – but the process of transition seems to be used here as a metaphor for wiping the slate clean and beginning a new life, untainted by the past. However, the lesson Emilia ultimately learns is that this is impossible, and she has to do more than change the way she lives if she wants to atone for her earlier crimes. This makes the underlying message a little muddled.

But again, I feel I must tip my hat to Jacques Audiard who, at seventy years of age, is fearlessly going where few other directors would dare to tread. Long may he continue to thrive!

3.6 stars

Philip Caveney

4PLAY: 4 New Plays from 4 Edinburgh Playwrights

05/12/24 – 06/12/24

Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh

As Scotland’s new writing theatre, the Traverse is the natural home for the 4PLAY collective to showcase their work. Over four nights, four emerging Edinburgh playwrights see their stories brought to life on the iconic Trav 2 stage – and all are greeted with delight by enthusiastic audiences.

First up is Fuckers by Ruaraidh Murray. From its opening moments, it’s clear that this is the no-holds-barred production its title suggests. In blackout, we listen to a noisy orgasm and then, as the lights go up, we’re confronted with a naked couple, daring each other to try a new sex act. As beginnings go, this is undeniably memorable! The pair are Andrew (Liam Ballantyine), a Scot, and Lois (Olivia Caw), an American, two performers who fall in love at the Fringe. But their sexual attraction is soured by their vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself and dooms their relationship. Directed by Eleanor Felton – aided by Sasha Harrington as a very necessary intimacy coordinator – this is a high-octane piece with an engaging energy. However, although the nudity works at first, establishing the physical nature of the affair, the constant dressing and undressing disrupts the flow and slows down the action, which is a real shame for such a kinetic piece.

Colours Run, written by Mikey Burnett and directed by Grace Ava Baker, tells the story of self-professed Hibs-loving hardman, Pongo (Ruaraidh Murray), who may have finally taken his nihilistic antics a step too far. Fearing retribution after handing out one beating too many, he heads home, anticipating the knock at the door that could come at any moment. Pongo lives with his younger brother, Pete (Sean Langtree), who openly idolises his big bruv and does everything he’s told, which means that he rarely goes out into the real world. Both Murray and Langtree are utterly compelling in their respective roles, Langtree appealingly vulnerable, Murray cold and calculating. The section where the pair play Who Wants to Be a Millionaire is wildly funny – but in the play’s latter half, Burnett’s script takes a confident step into darker, more transgressive territory. The nail-biting conclusion (which seems to echo Of Mice and Men) is simply but brilliantly handled.

Butterflies and Benefits, written and directed by Andrea McKenzie, boasts a cast of five and looks at the lives of four young protagonists enjoying a hedonistic lifestyle in the Edinburgh of the 1990s. Maz (Amy Glass) is having a great time partying until she falls under the spell of Mik (Michael Francis), an opportunistic coke-fiend who cannot extricate himself from the grip of the drug. Pretty soon, Maz falls pregnant and her close friends Abs (Lex Joyce) and Dee (Isla Campbell) can only look on in dismay as Maz and Mik enter a spiral of destruction. The long trance/dance sequences scattered throughout the narrative occasionally impede the momentum, and a single scene featuring health worker, Doc (Laverne Edmonds), doesn’t do enough to earn the character’s place in the story. This is an all-too-familiar warning about the dangers of drug addiction and the importance of friendship.

Last, but certainly not least, is Cheapo by Katy Nixon. A tight two-hander, this is our favourite of the four plays, deftly exploring the impact of a traumatic event on a pair of frightened teenagers. Something happened to Kyla (Heidi Steel) at a recent party, and she needs Andrew (Dayton Mungai) to help her sort it out. But he knows that her version of events is just a form of self-protection, and he’s not prepared to go along with the lies she’s telling herself. In a not-especially-subtle-but-nonetheless-effective metaphor, they play a game of chess, arguing about their possible moves while fighting to avoid checkmate. Under Gwen M Dolan’s direction, the tension is undercut by some beautifully-realised flights of fancy, as the duo imagine how their lives might have played out in alternate realities. Nixon’s script is spare and succinct, without a wasted word. She’s certainly one to watch.

What a treat it has been to see this quartet of plays, exploring stories from the edges of society. We look forward to seeing what these playwrights do next, and also to 2025’s 4PLAY.

4 stars

Susan Singfield & Philip Caveney

We Live in Time

02/12/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Directed by John Crowley, We Live in Time is a superior rom-com/weepie hybrid, anchored by stunning performances by two of Britain’s best actors, Florence Pugh and Andrew Garfield. Tonight’s advance screening – courtesy of Cineworld Unlimited – is extremely busy; in fact, we’ve managed to grab the very last two seats.

Pugh plays gourmet chef Almut Brühl, who hits a dressing-gown clad Tobias (Garfield) with her car while he’s bending down to pick up a piece of chocolate orange that’s fallen into the street. Luckily for the ‘rom’ part of the ‘com’, they’re both single: indeed, Tobias’s poor road-safety skills are the result of his reaction to signing his divorce papers. Before long, they’re in love – but then the ‘weepie’ element comes along, in the form of an ovarian cancer diagnosis, and a whole truckload of difficult decisions.

Nick Payne’s script is a sprightly delight, skipping around in time and tone with absolute assurance. The chronology is disrupted: we start in the middle of the story, then veer back and forth between the early stages of the couple’s relationship and the later trauma of Almut’s illness. It’s laugh-out-loud funny and devastatingly sad, a duality that’s reflected throughout the film.

Because Almut’s not ‘normal’. She’s a fascinatingly complex character: her restaurant serves Anglo-Bavarian fusion food; she’s bisexual; she’s fit and strong (a committed runner) and frail and weak (from the chemo). She’s a loving mother but it’s not enough: “I want to be remembered as more than a dead mum.” Almut treads her own path, and Tobias – softer and more passive than his go-getting partner – is her biggest supporter. Even if her driving force is sometimes hard to bear.

That Pugh makes a convincing chef is perhaps unsurprising as her father is a restaurateur. Naturally, given the couple’s jobs – Tobias is a data analyst for Weetabix – food plays a big part in this movie. Cinematographer Stuart Bentley highlights the seductive pleasure of a whole range of edible wonders, from Almut’s Michelin-starred concoctions to Jaffa Cakes dunked in mugs of tea and eaten in the bath.

We Live in Time is every bit as compelling as its heroine, and certainly worth a trip to your local cinema on New Year’s Day, when it’s out on general release. Just remember to pack your hanky – and maybe a fancy snack or two.

4.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Conclave

01/12/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

The Pope has died peacefully in his sleep and, following the long-established conventions of the Catholic church, archbishops and cardinals from across the world gather in The Vatican to undertake the complicated ritual of choosing a successor. The task of organising the ensuing (and highly secretive) process falls to Cardinal Lawrence (Ralph Fiennes), the dean of the college of cardinals, who must put aside his personal grief in order to referee the resulting contest. But who will claim the coveted role?

Will it be Italian hardliner (and notorious racist) Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto)? How about the reserved but highly respected African contender, Adayemi (Lucian Msamati)? Might the prime slot fall to the influential and oleaginous American, Tremblay (John Lithgow), whose recent activities seem to suggest he’s not entirely trustworthy? And let’s not forget the wild card, newly arrived from Kabul, Benitez (Carlos Diehz), a bishop that none of the main players even knew existed, until now.

Meanwhile, one of the few women here with any influence, Sister Agnes (Isabella Rosselini), seems to be holding back on some important nuggets of information…

Lawrence is rooting for his old friend, Bellini (Stanley Tucci), a man determined to bring Catholicism into his more liberal worldview but an unexpected rivalry springs up when Lawrence finds himself also emerging as a potential candidate, something he most certainly does not want. After suffering doubts about his own faith, he’s been looking for an excuse to step quietly away from the church of Rome…

After his epic remake of All Quiet on the Western Front, director Edward Berger has turned his skills to a much more intimate story. Conclave, adapted by Peter Straughan from the novel by Robert Harris, generates its own, claustrophobic grip as the conclave moves through vote after vote, the various candidates jockeying for supremacy. This is serious, grown-up filmmaking and has about it all the mystery and intrigue of a superior crime drama. It’s heartening to note that a big crowd has turned out for this Sunday afternoon showing, a situation that these days is too often the preserve of more lightweight family fare.

It’s probably true to say that those who are already familiar with the novel are not going to be quite as blown away as I am by the film’s head-scrambling outcome, which I really, REALLY don’t see coming. (Those in the know, please keep the information to yourselves.)

Conclave is a compelling film, that has something revelatory to say about one of the most powerful and oppressive religions on the planet. It’s a film, moreover, that ingeniously encapsulates its most fundamental premise into a deceptively simple final shot.

4. 4 stars

Philip Caveney

Number One at the Balmoral Hotel

30/11/24

Princes Street, Edinburgh

In the ten years since we bought our Edinburgh flat, we’ve been slowly working our way through the city’s impressive roster of fine-dining establishments. Number One, situated next to Waverley Station in the basement of the iconic Balmoral Hotel, has long been on our radar and tonight, at last, it’s time to sample its delights.

And delightful they are.

We opt for the seven-course tasting menu. We tend to prefer this to a traditional à la carte three-course meal, mainly because it pushes us out of our comfort zones and makes us try new things – or reassess old ones. Take celeriac, for example. I’d never choose it. But it shows up this evening in the fifth course, and it turns out I like it very much indeed when its been mashed and deep fried into a little bonbon of perfection.

How many synonyms are there for delicious’? Because there’s no other way to describe the plates of… deliciousness we’re presented with. We start with canapés, tiny mouthfuls of loveliness: one duck liver, one cullen skink and one truffle choux. These are followed by a small loaf of freshly-baked linseed sourdough bread and butter, an irresistible mix.

The first course is Ullapool brown crab, a light, delicate concoction of crab custard, topped with crab claws and toasted almonds. It’s silky and airy and utterly, um… delicious.

Next up is Pittenweem lobster, which is perhaps my favourite course. We’re not required to mess about with nutcrackers (or chainsaws, for that matter) because it’s all been done for us: one neatly extracted claw and tail apiece, as well as a gyoza-style dumpling and a bisque. All the joy of a lobster without any of the hard work.

The partridge, from Gleneagles Estate, is another triumph. This comes with leek and fennel, and is stuffed with some kind of bacony-pork concoction that works really well with the more subtly-flavoured game.

Shetland halibut is next to appear, and it’s cooked to melt-in-the-mouth perfection, topped with Oscietra caviar and sitting in a pool of more-ish beurre blanc. This is Philip’s favourite fish and he’s not disappointed. That’s right: it’s delicious.

The final savoury course is Hopetoun Estate roe deer, the saddle served medium rare (we’re given the option to select a preference here, but we trust head chef Mathew Sherry and his team to know how long the meat needs cooking for). There’s also an intensely earthy sausage and the aforementioned game-changing celeriac.

We decide against the optional cheese course at this juncture, because there are still two puddings to go and we’re getting pretty full. Instead, we head straight to the exquisitely-presented Balmoral honey dessert, with honeycomb and a yoghurt ice cream. It’s superb.

The last item on the menu is a pumpkin soufflé, as light as air, with a sliver of gingerbread buried inside. The accompanying pumpkinseed praline is a revelation, and the super-sweet ganache topping adds that extra oomph to make the whole thing pop.

We order decaf coffees to finish off, which come with a selection of petit fours, of which the sea buckthorn meringue tart and peanut butter macaron are the standouts.

And then, a mere three hours after our arrival, we head back out into the Edinburgh night and begin our short walk home.

In a nutshell: deliciously delicious.

5 stars

Susan Singfield

Moana 2

30/11/24

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Moana wasn’t a smash in cinemas when it was released in 2016 (at least not by Disney standards) but it went on to develop a massive following once it started streaming. This belated sequel was itself originally intended to go straight to the small screen, but an executive decision decreed that it should first have a theatrical release and it appears to be doing far better than anyone expected.

It’s three years after the events of the first film and Moana (Auli’i Cravalho) is still a Wayfinder, mounting regular expeditions to try and find other tribes to connect with, but the evil god Nalo remains determined to keep the many nations of Polynesia divided. Pretty soon, Moana reconnects with demi-god, Maui (Dwayne Johnson), and she chooses an odd crew to accompany her on a new quest, a search for the cursed island of Motofetu, which has sunk to the bottom of the ocean. They are: eager young follower, Loti (Rose Matafeo); grumpy farmer, Kele (David Fane); and hunky Maui-worshipper, Moni (Hualalai Chung). Of course, comic relief comes in the form of the chicken and the pig, who are along for the ride – but I have to confess to growing tired of their repeated pratfalls fairly early on.

As with the first film, the animation is utterly spectacular, the evocations of nature incredibly accomplished – and I love the fact that the story is deeply rooted in Polynesian folklore. But the middle section feels strangely cluttered as Moana has to contend with the Kakomora – a tribe of er… coconuts – and she spends a lot of time in the bowels of a giant clam, much of which comes across as a kind of weird, hallucinatory goo-fest. The various goings-on are supposed to be clear to young audiences, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the only adult present, who – at various points – completely fails to understand what’s going on and why the characters are doing what they’re are.

A brief interlude where Moana interacts (and sings) with a malevolent ‘bat-lady’ called Matangi (Awhimai Fraser) is a welcome highlight – it also helps that this antagonist has a face – and I’d like to have seen more of her. (I probably will in the inevitable Part 3.)

Moana 2 has a PG certificate and warns only of ‘mild threat’ but some of the younger viewers at the packed screening I attend are clearly a bit distressed by the darker elements of the story. I’d say this is more suitable for kids aged seven and above but, whatever it’s doing, it seems to be going down a storm and it’s clearly going to generate massive profits for the House of Mouse.

3.8 stars

Philip Caveney

Treasure Island

29/11/24

Lyceum Theatre, Edinburgh

A satisfying Christmas show can be a decidedly tricky thing to pull off. If Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island initially seems an unlikely vehicle for such a venture, my qualms are short-lived. Duncan McLean’s sprightly adaptation of the classic tale is perfectly pitched for family entertainment. It sticks surprisingly close to the original plot, but throws in enough delightful twists to make me forget that I’ve heard this story so many times before.

The tale begins in the Admiral Benbow Home for Reformed Pirates. It’s coming on Christmas and young Jim Hawkins (Jade Chan) is attempting to keep the unruly residents (a pack of former cut-throats) suitably entertained with a story. But it turns out that ex-buccaneers take a dim view of books about macrame and bird-spotting, so Jim reluctantly offers to recount the events that brought them all together in the first place. It helps that the pirates have plenty of talents they can bring to bear in the telling, not least the fact that they can all sing, dance and bash out tunes on a variety of musical instruments.

The story begins in time-honoured fashion with the arrival of Billy Bones (Itxaxo Moreno) at the Admiral Benbow and, of course, the delivery of the dreaded Black Spot – and it isn’t long before Jim has possession of the fabled treasure map. He enlists the help of The Laird of Leith (a delightfully silly performance by TJ Holmes), who owns a ship called The Hispaniola. The Laird engages the services of a pie-maker called Lean Jean Silver (Amy Conachan), who has a pet puffin (expertly operated by Dylan Read). But Lean Jean may not be as benign as she appears…

The main changes to the story are geographical. McLean is based in the Orkney Islands so, in this version of the story, the Hispaniola heads North, towards colder waters. Alex Berry’s effective set design manages to somehow encapsulate the look and feel of an old sailing ship using not much more than ropes, rigging and strategically-placed stepladders, while everyday objects are pressed into service to become boats and aquatic creatures. Director Wils Wilson expertly deploys the small cast, sending them racing and capering over every inch of the Lyceum’s spacious stage, assisted by piratical-looking stage hands. At times, it feels like there’s a much bigger crew at work.

There are sword fights and chases, thrills and spills aplenty, and Tim Dalling (who also plays an engaging Ben Gunn) has written a selection of charming songs to accompany the action, ranging from plaintive ballads to raunchy rock-and-roll.

If only he had a singalong Christmas ditty up his sleeve, something to send every audience homewards singing the chorus. Oh wait, it turns out he has.

Treasure Island is a must-see for the festive season – you’ll laugh, you’ll tremble, you’ll tap your feet to the jaunty jigs and reels – and even the youngest members of the family will find themselves riveted. So step right this way, ye scurvy dogs – and have a merry puffin Christmas!

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney

My Old Ass

26/11/24

Amazon Prime

Maybe because it’s lumbered with what must rank as one of the most unprepossessing titles in cinematic history, this charming film failed to make it into UK multiplexes and can only be found lurking amidst the ‘recently added’ section on Amazon Prime. Written and directed by Megan Park, it’s an engaging story, anchored by a tremendously appealing central performance by Maisy Stella.

She plays Elliott, a teenage girl living in the wilds of Canada. She’s recently finished school and is preparing to head off to university in Toronto. Meanwhile, she’s intent on enjoying her remaining days at home: making out with an attractive female assistant at her local coffee shop (an ambition that’s quickly ticked off the ‘to do’ list), and then heading off with her two pals, Ruthie (Maggie Ziegler) and Ro (Kerrice Brooks), for an unconventional birthday celebration. The trio have laid their hands on some hallucinogenic mushrooms and plan to spend the night in the local woods, getting utterly wasted. (With typical teenage insensitivity, Elliott is blissfully unaware that her family are waiting at home for her with a birthday cake).

The resulting trip has some unexpected consequences. Elliott encounters a version of herself from the future. Older Elliott (Aubrey Plaza) is thirty-nine, still in college and, judging by the scant information she gives away, living in a dark and unpredictable world. She has only one bit of advice for her younger self. Stay away from somebody called ‘Chad.’ (She refuses to say any more on the subject.)

The following morning, older Elliott has disappeared but she has left her phone number and, it turns out, the two of them can talk to each other across the decades, even exchange text messages. And then young Elliott bumps into a handsome and charming stranger (played by Percy Hynes White) and, despite her previous aversion to boys, she begins to feel powerfully attracted to him.

His name? You guessed it. Chad.

My Old Ass is a charming, bitter-sweet story that celebrates the freedom of youth and, at the same time, points out the futility of trying to deny your inner longings and the inevitability of change. As I said, Stella is tremendous in this and I expect to see her in more movies in the not too distant future. Elliot’s relationship with her mother, Kathy (Maria Dizzla), and her two brothers, Max (Seth Isaac Johnson) and Spencer (Carter Trozzolo), are effectively drawn – I particularly enjoy Spencer’s obsessive preoccupation with the actor, Saoirse Ronan – and the picturesque Canadian settings are beautifully utilised.

Aubrey Plaza makes a welcome addition to any film (she was the best thing about Francis Ford Coppola’s Megalopolis) and my only complaint is that here she’s somewhat underused, popping up only twice in person. But it doesn’t prevent the story from keeping me intrigued and hooked to its charming – and sometimes quirky – worldview.

So, the next time you’re stuck for something new to watch, head to Amazon Prime and give this a whirl. It’s a delight.

4 stars

Philip Caveney

Joy

23/11/24

Netflix

For people of a certain vintage, the name of Bob Edwards might ring a bell. He was, of course, the doctor who came up with the concept of Invitro Fertilisation and who, after years of tireless work, was behind the birth of Louise Brown – the first ‘test-tube baby’ as the press of the era dubbed her. You’ll probably also have heard of Patrick Steptoe, the surgeon whose advances in keyhole surgery made the whole process a possibility.

But the name Jean Purdy is certainly not as familiar. The third member of the team, an embryologist, Purdy worked alongside the two men (and, indeed, as this film suggests, was ultimately the driving force that brought their work to completion). And yet, to a great degree, her contribution has been largely airbrushed from history. She didn’t even merit a mention on the memorial plaque at Oldham General Hospital (Louise Brown’s birthplace) until 2015.

This story begins in 1965 when we meet Purdy (Thomasin McKenzie), freshly graduated from nursing school, being interviewed by Edwards (James Norton), who has recently embarked on the project that will occupy him for many years. His aim is simple: to provide an answer to all those would-be parents who have been prevented from having children because of a simple quirk of nature. Edwards and Purdy quickly become a duo. But their first goal is to enlist the help of Steptoe (Bill Nighy), who – though brusque and dismissive at first – is soon won over, largely by Purdy’s direct, no-nonsense approach.

The trio duly embark on years of experimentation as they work towards their ultimate goal. Underfunded and mocked by the tabloid press (who dub Edwards ‘Doctor Frankenstein’), it’s a long hard road – and it’s not until 1978 that their years of work finally bear fruit. Along the way, Jean’s relationship with her own mother is broken. Gladys (Joanna Scanlon) is deeply religious and sees this whole endeavour as ‘sinful’ and ‘unnatural.’ She cuts her daughter out of her life and even asks her not to attend the church they have both gone to for years. It’s only when Gladys falls ill that an uneasy alliance is finally established.

Purdy also nurtures a secret: she herself suffers from endometriosis and is unable to have the child that she has always longed for…

Jack Thorne’s screenplay is beautifully understated, as is Ben Taylor’s direction, which effortlessly catches the drab look and feel of the 60s and 70s. The three leads handle their roles with considerable aplomb and McKenzie in particular is wonderfully affecting, managing to convey her character’s inner turmoil with little more than a wistful look and a sidelong glance. As somebody who has personal experience of the benefits of IVF in the form of my much-loved daughter (and I fully appreciate how easy it was for me as the male in the relationship), I don’t mind admitting that some of the scenes here have me filling up.

Joy is a ‘small’ film, which probably accounts for the fact that it’s not competing with the likes of Gladiator 2 at your local multiplex and, instead, has gone straight to streaming. But it’s really worth the watch. It tells a fascinating true story of courage and determination.

And in its own quiet way, it’s a remarkable film.

4.3 stars

Philip Caveney