Holmes & Watson (2018)

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He and I co-detectives? Not I. Not here. Not even in my rapturous moments of private fantasy! Renowned detective Sherlock Holmes (Will Ferrell) and Dr. John Watson (John C. Reilly) join forces to investigate a mysterious murder threat upon Queen Victoria (Pam Ferris) at Buckingham Palace. It seems like an open-and-shut case as all signs point to Professor James Moriarty (Ralph Fiennes), the criminal mastermind and longtime nemesis of the crime-solving duo. Both men are diverted by American women – Dr Grace Hart (Rebecca Hall) and her companion Millicent (Lauren Lapkus) whom she insists is her electric shock treatment subject, a woman reared by feral cats. When new twists and clues begin to emerge, the sleuth and his assistant must use their legendary wits and ingenious methods to catch the killer who may have been hiding in plain sight very close to home I have the oddest feeling. Like knowing, but the opposite. Blending the steampunk approach of the Robert Downey films and the flash-forward visual detection of Benedict Cumberbatch’s TV Sherlock, this also has anachronistic shtick (Titanic in the life of Queen Vic, anyone?) and a cheeky reference to one of the more arcane Holmes incarnations in the casting of Hugh Laurie as Sherlock’s brother Mycroft – TV’s House, geddit?! (That’s a scene that doesn’t work, sadly). Some of the best sequences and laughs are with Hall and Lapkus, between the misogyny and the bits about nineteenth century medical treatments, with some genuinely amusing romantic farce and bromantic jokes.  This is beautifully shot by Oliver Wood, exquisitely designed by James Hambidge and costumed by Beatrix Aruna Pasztor. Naturally it’s only a matter of time until someone says No shit Sherlock and it’s from the mouths of Dickensian runts straight out of Oliver!  There’s a funny passing song that occasions a joke about musicals when the film finally lets rip à la The Muppets giving it more promise than it delivers and there are some highly contemporary visual and political references. So there’s wit and invention aplenty but it’s not quite clever enough all the time. Rather like Holmes. Minus the innuendo and lewdness this could have been a marvellous comic outing for children, agreeably silly with some easy but amusing targets but you know, these guys, they just can’t help themselves, with Ferrell doing too much of what he likes as the ultimate defective detective and Reilly as his hapless foil, a Johnson in more ways than one (until the roles get switched, which happens constantly and is confusing). The ladies are fantastic and Fiennes brings that immaculate class as is his wont and manages to be the only one who doesn’t actually twirl that comedy moustache; while Rob Brydon, Kelly Macdonald and Steve Coogan (as a one-armed tattooist) get their moments of infamy. Written and directed by Etan Coen. No, not that Coen, obvs. Terrible and clueless but not totally awful. Go figure.  A sniff of morning cocaine always helps the brain

The Day Time Ended (1979)

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You know what this is, don’t you? A time-space warp! The Williams family headed by Richard (Chris Mitchum) and Beth (Marcy Lafferty) with son Steve (Scott Kolden) and daughter Jenny (Natasha Ryan) relocates to the Sonoran Desert to be close to grandfather Grant (Jim Davis) and grandmother Ana (Dorothy Malone) in their solar-powered home.  Three supernovae explode simultaneously, aliens build something behind the barn, a UFO lands in the hills and a miniature extra-terrestrial befriends Jenny telepathically. Because this desert home is in the middle of a time vortex that lures aliens to warn them of earth’s imminent destruction. When said aliens then touch down and fight among themselves outside the house, the family escapes but becomes separated while Beth and Jenny disappear and the next day everyone finds they are actually thousands of years in the future… For a while the whole galaxy was turned upside down. Home movie level acting even with Malone’s starriness, shonky effects and a mercifully short running time (79 minutes) make for an amusing diversion and a pleasing reminder of life when Atari games seemed positively other-worldly. A trip, of sorts. Sigh.  There is an elegant score by Richard Band. Written by J. Larry Carroll, Steve Neill, Wayne Schmidt and David Schmoeller.  Directed by John Cardos. Maybe this was all meant to be

Serenity (2019)

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Reel him in.  Baker Dill (Matthew McConaughey) is a fishing boat captain who leads tours off the tranquil enclave of Plymouth Island in the Florida Keys with assistant Duke (Djimon Hounsou) motivated by eventually catching a big tuna he calls Justice. He enjoys sex for money with Constance (Diane Lane) but his life is disturbed by inexplicable visions that seem to connect him with the son he hasn’t seen since his time in Iraq. His routine is soon shattered when his ex-wife Karen (Anne Hathaway) tracks him down. Desperate for help, Karen begs Baker to save her and their son Patrick (Rafael Sayegh) from her abusive husband, criminal Frank Zariakas (Jason Clarke). She wants Baker to take the violent brute out for a fishing excursion – then throw him overboard to the sharks. But a late night visit from a mysterious company representative Reid Miller (Jeremy Strong) throws a spanner into the works … A hooker that can’t afford hooks. I like a boat thriller. Something about the infinite dramatic possibilities played out on the finite dimensions of a floating vehicle, all at sea. Like Knife in the Water. Masquerade. Dead Calm. There are enough clues in this gorgeous looking melodrama that things are off – the World’s Greatest Dad mug; the seemingly telepathic connection with Patrick; the inter-cutting with Patrick creating a world in which he is catching fish on his computer; and the frankly hysterical sex scene with McConaughey and Hathaway, a ludicrous interplanetary femme fatale, on a boat lurching in a rainstorm:  she promptly gets up and puts on her trenchcoat and hat and trots off up the pier. Bonkers. McConaughey strips off regularly evoking quite a different take on the inspirational Moby Dick: Mobile Dick, perhaps. Sex with your ex, indeed. Lane out-acts everyone by being discreet; Hounsou mutters incomprehensibly bizarre aphorisms like he’s read them off a matchbook, everyone else speaks in similarly random non sequiturs. I would have laughed out loud but I struggled to hear much of the unintentionally hilarious dialogue.  I get the meta stuff and video games but like I said, I also like a boat thriller. This ain’t it. Bad and utterly irrational, like you would not believe. Written and directed by Steven Knight. If someone invented me, how come I know who I am?

Star Wars: Episode VIII – The Last Jedi (2017)

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This is not going to go the way you think. The showdown between the rebels and the First Order led by Snoke (Andy Serkis) is underway. Rey (Daisy Ridley) goes to Ahch-To to find out from Luke (Mark Hamill) what happened between him and Kylo Ren/Ben Solo (Adam Driver) and recruit him. Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) is injured in combat so someone has to take over the bridge and it’s not going to be Poe (Oscar Isaac) because he just ordered a bombing that will cost them too much. Finn (John Boyega) and a new character Rose (Kelly Marie Tran) figure out they need to get a code to break into the Order’s ability to track the fleet. Luke teaches Rey to tap into her powers but it’s Kylo Ren who gets into her head …How did anyone get the idea to hire Rian Johnson to both write and direct this difficult second album? The guy who made Brick (not as good as Veronica Mars) and Looper (entirely predictable from the tricksy go)? Whoever they are, they deserve a raise. This takes all the series’ tropes, turns them around, gives them a shake and never quits from the get-go which commences at a gallop. Maybe you’ll quibble about the turn to the dark side (and particularly the changes to Luke’s character) but there’s a traditional inevitability about this Freudian epic which Johnson plays on in order to clear the path for new people. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll cheer – especially when one ogre dies and an old-timer reappears. Time to let old things go. Wildly exciting. Oh my goodness! When’s the next show?! RIP Princess Carrie.