Theatre review-Four Quartets by TS Eliot

Directed by and starring Ralph Fiennes

York Theatre Royal

By @Roger Crow

Years ago, at a major Floridian theme park, there was an autograph shop. The place was filled with framed pictures of global stars with their names written on photos and name cards of said star. Except one that stuck out was Ralph Fiennes. The name card was spelled wrong, even if the photo was right. Given that the real Ralph Fiennes has been part of the bedrock of film and global* theatre for so long, I’m in a state of denial that he’ll turn up to York Theatre Royal at all.

*When I say global, I mean mostly London. 

Maybe there was a typo on the invite, like that framed autograph. ‘Maybe it’s a Ralph Fiennes tribute act’, I think. After all, this is the guy who has been dazzling us on stage and screen since the early 1990s. 

Many may obviously know him as the noseless one in the Harry Potter saga, but I like his lesser known performances, such as the slightly sleazy Lenny Nero in Kathryn Bigelow’s Strange Days, the guy who sold clips of memories.

Fiennes’ gift for comedy is extraordinary, as he proved in Hail Caesar! and the sublime Grand Budapest Hotel, so with all of that baggage under his belt, when the real Ralph walks out on to the stage at York Theatre Royal, there is almost an audible gasp. Not least from me. 

Genuine stars have that ability to create a sudden vacuum as people inhale at the same time. And as he settles into what turns out to be ‘A magnetic piece of live theatre’, as one broadsheet rightly claimed, the audience also adjusts to having an icon on stage. 

For once, the gushing press blurb is on the money. “Ralph Fiennes delivers an extraordinary tour de force in T S Eliot’s final masterpiece which offers four interwoven meditations on the nature of time, faith and the quest for spiritual enlightenment.”
I knew absolutely nothing about the text going in. Which is often the best way. 
Mostly written during the Second World War, when the closure of the playhouses during the Blitz interrupted Eliot’s work in theatre, Four Quartets contains reflections upon surviving periods of national crisis.

And obviously with ‘you know what’ dominating the minds of millions over the past 18 months, there’s little chance this treat for regional theatre goers would have happened if Ralph had been free to travel the world for assorted projects. 

Watching Fiennes tackle this Everest of text without missing a beat is a sight to behold. He’s framed throughout by two enormous vertical slabs of a set, which either he manipulates or they are done remotely. They are tombstones, monoliths, walls, whatever you want them to be, such is their simple genius. There’s also a couple of chairs and a table. Take a bow set and costume designer Hildegard Bechtler for the overall effect. 

Ralph is in bare feet, which makes me wonder how thoroughly that stage must be swept just in case a stray object causes injury. 

There’s also a lone moth orbiting the action, which is obviously not part of the drama, and yet strangely accentuates the lone actor’s solitude as he delivers Eliot’s words. 

The atmosphere is genuinely electric, and though I might be struck down for saying so, I’m not a fan of the text. I rarely am when I first experience a drama. It’s only after that first viewing that a work gets under the skin. 

Personally I would have preferred Fiennes to re-enact The Greatest Play in the History of the World, which I’d seen on the same stage a few weeks earlier. But this is Fiennes’ time. A star taking precedence over the material. He could have spent 75 minutes reciting the contents of a cereal packet and I would have been hooked. 

There are a couple of wry smiles, and the odd intentional laugh to lighten the mood, but for the most part this is bleak subject matter. A melancholy study of life, death, and every syllable is perfectly measured. As you would expect. 

It’s quite a thing for any actor to have the audience in the palm of their hand for more than an hour, but of course great thespians achieve that on stage. Not that we usually get a chance to see it in York, so this is a genuine treat for those who love great theatre, Ralph Fiennes or both. 

Kudos must also go to lighting designer Tim Lutkin, and sound designer Christopher Shutt for creating the mood throughout, especially a scene when our lone protagonist faces what looks like the gates of some vast inferno. It’s hugely cinematic. 

I’ve no doubt that as the years roll by, and I learn more about Four Quartets, I realise how much more there was to the piece than I realised. Man’s relationship with time, the universe, and the divine is such a huge subject matter, that it’s too much to take in during one sitting. 

Or maybe I’ll just accept the show for what it is. A great actor sharing the white-hot intensity of a performance with an audience for a little over an hour. It’s a great honour, and the standing ovation is well justified. Fiennes thumps his heart briefly as thanks to the audience, and it’s one of those simple moments which lingers long after we’ve filed out of the theatre. 

That shared experience is such a gift in these strange days that it stands head and shoulders above the Eliot’s text and the humble star enacting it.

The man behind Lenny Nero gave the audience a memory clip we’ll never forget. What a gift. 

Ends

Book review- The Jermyn Street Shirt, by Jonathan Sothcott

By @RogerCrow

A few years ago, Ian Ogilvy was promoting his new film, We Still Steal the Old Way, and I was keen to have another chat.

(Ian is a dream interviewee, not least because we get to discuss one of my favourite shows, Return of the Saint, and our mutual love of video games).

Sir Ogilvy (it’s only a matter of time) was a joy, as usual, and producer Jonathan Sothcott got in touch and thanked me for helping to promote the film. I thought that was that. But over the years it’s been a pleasure to see how his career has developed. The opening titles for his movies alone are works of art, and while the influence of James Bond epics is obvious, they’re still to be applauded. 

Richard Harvie, owner of Harvie & Hudson, Jermyn Street, my new favourite shop – and not just because Bill Nighy walked in minutes earlier

I knew that one day I would end up interviewing him, but the fact he was often seen at some posh lunch looking immaculate was a little intimidating. How do you interview someone who you think, okay know, will be your intellectual superior? And obviously sartorially, he’s in a different league. I don’t know of any other British film producer who has his remarkable sense of style. 

Eventually we did chat, and it turned out to be a revelation. As a movie fan, his knowledge of the film industry is phenomenal, which is probably one of the reasons I liked his movie Nemesis so much. It was a morally ambiguous gangster thriller which took me by surprise, and remains my favourite film from Jonathan’s catalogue. But while he’s a man who’s always ready for a photo opportunity, as many folks in the media should be, I had no idea how vast his knowledge of shirts, suits and ties was. And when he said he was working on a book about “German Street”, I had no idea what he was on about.

But of course he had said Jermyn Street, and by a remarkable coincidence, the day after his new book arrived, I was to witness this part of London for the first time.

A friend runs a tour of the area, and I’d arranged to attend said tour weeks in advance. It turned out to be extraordinary. Though very late to the party, I can understand why this region of the capital has become a haven for sartorial samurais. And like ancient warriors of old, those that slice cloth to enhance our often lumpy, strangely designed bodies are masters of their craft. 

Every girl may not be crazy about a chunky bloke, but pop him in a bespoke suit and chances are he will get a second and third look. 

Which is probably one of the reasons I’m so interested in the medium. That and the fact I witnessed the area where the assorted actors were fitted for THOSE suits. The James Bond threads that wowed millions the world over, and remain the stuff of movie magic. Even seeing the shop which provided the tie for Heath Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight left me slack of jaw.

I’m no fashion guru, but as a movie lover, Jermyn Street is a must see. And Jonathan’s book reads like a dream. Because there’s none of that pretentious nonsense that could have alienated the reader. It’s an often compelling one-man odyssey, and that passion for the medium is infectious. James Bond is a rich, unbreakable thread that binds many 007 fans together, and like any cult subject, the more you learn the more you realise the less you know.

(During that tour, I don’t buy any shirts or ties, but the lure of Floris No 39, Ian Fleming’s choice of scent, is too great to resist).

Design-wise, TJSS is an instant design classic. Its weight and size is perfect. Not so heavy that it cuts off the blood supply to your legs if rested on the lap, and not so large that it’s unwieldy to read. 

Photographer Rikesh Chauhan does a splendid job with many of the lovely shots, and it’s strange seeing the stills of Turnbull & Asser for example a day after experiencing the shop for the first time. It’s like getting the ‘Making of the movie’ book a day after seeing the film.

In short, for anyone who loves great fashion, but has always felt it a bit of a closed shop, The Jermyn Street Shirt is the key to opening the front doors. 

Another valuable asset of the book is the pages, specifically the photos. I hate that thing where the grease from even a clean pair of hands can leave a print. Okay, it is a bit OCD, but good books are like paintings. And you would want greasy fingers all over the Mona Lisa would you?

Through the course of the book I discover a ‘placket’ is that strip down the front of the shirt. I’m almost 53 and never knew it even had a name, let alone all the other forensic attention to detail.

Some books you devour in one sitting and others you savour. This is definitely one to savour. I’m even impressed with the weight of the paper, probably because that’s another one of those things that was considered by experts to make the reading experience as fabulous as possible. 

Lee Majors, Jeanine Nerissa Sothcott, author Jonathan Sothcott and Billy Murray take a break from pending film Renegades. With any luck, they’ll all star in the hypothetical film version of The Jermyn Street Shirt.

Whether you’re a dedicated follower of fashion, or just love a well researched book penned by an expert, this is a must-read. And unlike a shirt with diamonds down the front, it won’t cost a placket.

Sorry/not sorry.

The Jermyn Street Shirt is out now, History Press, £25

Film review-Out of Death

Starring Jaime King, Bruce Willis and Lala Kent

Directed by Mike Burns

By @RogerCrow

While grieving the death of her father, photojournalist Shannon Mathers (Jaime King) attempts to spread his ashes in the woods when she witnesses a pouty cop (Lala Kent) killing an unarmed henchman during a drug deal.

Shannon snaps the scene before being discovered. Shot at and scared, she races through the woods, but seems to get captured at every turn. 

Lucky for her, retired cop Jack Harris (Bruce Willis) saves Shannon and they escape into the woods. 

As dirty cops arrive to help hunt her down, including the brutal town sheriff Hank Rivers (Michael Sirow), Shannon and Jack fight back against the corrupt police. 

Like Hard Kill, which also featured Lala Kent and Tyler Jon Olsen, Out of Death is another of those gloriously silly Willis thrillers shot on a relatively tight budget, with terrifically hissable villains. 

Clunky exposition between the hunted woman and her seasoned saviour is cringeworthy, but it fills in a few blanks and leads to a spot of surrogate grieving daughter/surrogate grieving dad bonding.

The hapless cops, usually stoned and shouty, look remarkably well turned out considering they’re so gloriously stupid. And there’s a Faustian villain straight from the book of generic antagonists, with his jet-black hair and goatee – there’s no doubt his intentions aren’t honourable. Oh, and he’s also a crooked politician. Whoever heard of such a thing? 

Willis, essentially playing a worn-out John McClane, is as magnetic as ever, despite the fact the script needed a lot more polish. And Bruce’s Sin City co-star Jaime King is a fine heroine, even if I spent half the film confusing her with Jaime Pressly from My Name is Earl.

Director Mike Burns could have done with ramping things up a bit in the second act. And he also commits the cardinal sin of having characters just sat around dropping huge chunks of exposition instead of delivering bits of info while on the move.

The use of title cards was also a big mistake. Fine in a Willis movie like Pulp Fiction, but this is no collection of great short stories. It’s just an okay cat and mouse ‘thriller’, which isn’t that thrilling. There are some attempts at character development, so when a key antagonist does buy the farm, at least it has more impact. But while it may be reminiscent of cult TV saga Ozark, there’s just not that much going on for the slightly overlong running time.

Bruce coasts by on his charisma, but those expecting him to break into action man mode will be sorely disappointed. The guy is now pension age, so little wonder he’s taking things easier. 

And for the most part, Shannon is more victim than heroine, so you want her to do more than just run around looking scared. 

(Watch Betty Gilpin’s stunning turn in The Hunt to see how Shannon should have been played). 

That score really got on my nerves, with its soft rock songs and power chords. And the title is like some predictive text message or a random thriller title-generator app that takes key words and slots them together, like Fatal Instinct or Basic Attraction. 

Out of Death? Out of Ideas might be closer the mark. 

Cast 7

Script 7

Direction 7

Editing 7

Score 6

Travel – 48 hours in London

By @RogerCrow

So, you have a couple of days in London and want to make the most of it. What do you do, where do you go and where are the best places to eat?

Well, first things first. Where to stay?

The Churchill, Hyatt Regency, Portman Square has everything you need for a great couple of days, but if you want to go to dinner somewhere a bit quirky, then…

Sixes in Fitzrovia (https://www.sixescricket.com/)

It’s about a mile from The Churchill, so either get a taxi or walk it. It’s well worth the effort. 

You can just grab a bite to eat, and have a drink either inside or outside. But why just do that when you can revel in the place’s USP? 

I can’t say I’m a huge cricket fan, and it’s probably 35 years since I held a bat, but this is instantly one of the most enjoyable dining experiences I’ve had in ages. 

If you’re with a few friends, the thrill of having balls fired at you in a netted cage is hugely appealing. A video screen features the bowler, whose ball (fired from a launcher) soon becomes all too real as you a) try to hit it and b) get a decent score. A panel outside the net keeps the tally, so if you’ve had a tough week before your mini-break and want to get rid of some of that pent-up frustration, then this is just the ticket. 

Oh, and the food is excellent. I had mini beef sliders with a vegan burger main, and all were terrifically tasty. As for the warm cookie dough with ice cream dessert, It’s a sweet treat to savour. And on a hot summer’s night, a cold beer is all the more welcome. 

After a great night’s sleep at The Churchill, I was keen to do something cultural where I’d get my steps in and go places I’d never been in the capital. 

So I head off to…

Literary and Fashion Tour (https://londonliterarytours.co.uk/)

Cindy Lawford and Mike Carter do a fabulous job enacting scenes from beloved novels inbetween a guided tour of famous literary haunts. Naturally me being a James Bond fan, I’m fascinated by how Ian Fleming’s life and work is put in context by assorted areas in the city. A re-enacted scene from Moonraker outside one of the clubs frequented by Ian Fleming, was a highlight for me, though seeing areas where Graham Greene drew inspiration for his works was also compelling stuff.

All that walking in hot weather was a little tiring, but after lunch I had a new lease of life. 

Cindy’s tour of Jermyn Street, one of THE most fashionable areas of the UK, is phenomenal, and highly recommended. (I’d suggest getting a copy of Jonathan Sothcott’s new book The Jermyn Street Shirt, which by coincidence arrived on my doorstep the morning I set off for London). 

Jermyn Street

It’s amazing to see one of Winston Churchill’s old suits in one of the shops, not to mention the actual tie range used for Heath Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight. Oh, and 007 fans will love seeing the shop where the likes of Sean Connery were fitted for the most memorable suits in film history. 

As I’m staying at The Churchill, I’m keen to know more about Blighty’s greatest leader, so by late afternoon I pay a visit to…

Churchill’s War Rooms (Clive Steps, King Charles St, SW1A 2AQ)

Part of the Imperial War Museum, this area provides a fascinating insight into one of Blighty’s greatest Prime Ministers. The secret underground HQ where he lived and worked during World War Two is still a hive of activity today as tourists like me soak up the history and sense of place from one of the bleakest times of the past 100 years. 

If you want to get the most out of the experience, perhaps best to do it before a five-mile walk around town, and not on one of the hottest days of the year. And even if war history isn’t your thing, watch Gary Oldman’s stunning turn in Darkest Hour before you go; chances are it will enhance the experience no end. 

By the time I’m back at the Hyatt Regency, Churchill is so much more than that illustrious leader and iconic silhouette we know and love. 

I was planning on seeing a West End show, but as nothing took my fancy, so I jumped on a Tube and headed for the Embankment. If I had ever taken a trip down the Thames, it was decades ago, so armed with my Oyster card, I boarded one of the Clippers and enjoyed a beer while soaking up the sights of an ever-changing London. It now looks more like something from Star Trek Into Darkness than ever, with its curved glass buildings gleaming in the sunlight at magic hour. 

By Sunday, packed up and ready to go back to Yorkshire, I catch a Tube to Piccadilly Circus to try out the last of the restaurants on my list. 

Sophie’s of Soho

Sophie’s of Soho

When I’m invited to try out this steakhouse and cocktail bar in one of the most vibrant parts of London, I know very little about it. And though I turn up an hour before I think it should open, it does give me an excuse to grab a mocha at Picturehouse Central cafe a short walk away. (One of the greatest cinemas in the UK in case you were wondering). 

By noon Sophie’s doors are open, and I’m invited into the light and airy restaurant. It’s beautifully decorated, with its comfy chairs, decor… and the huge framed poster of Mary Millington’s Come Play with Me. If this were an old record, the needle would have just jumped off the vinyl. The fact I don’t notice it straight away is amazing. It’s such a sunny day, and the place is so alluring, that it’s strange to see something which seems so out of place. And yet it’s also very much of the area. Apparently this used to be an old ‘cinema for the more discerning gentleman’, so it’s nice to see an eatery that hasn’t forgotten its roots. However, it does seem at odds with what the place is now, not that my fellow diners seem too shocked by some of the decor. Maybe I’ve finally reached that age when a saucy film poster has stunned even me. 

Far less saucy, but definitely thrilling, was Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation, one of my favourite thrillers of the past six years, and across the road are the phone boxes where Tom Cruise filmed one of the early scenes. 

I order a light lunch. The tuna steak with a side of creamed spinach is phenomenal, especially with a cold beer. Very welcome on one of the hottest days of the year. The service, care of Luis, is superb, and I love the music wafting over the speakers. 

Tuna steak and creamed spinach at Sophie’s of Soho

It’s the end of an extraordinary couple of days in London, a mini break which has proved how much you can pack into a short stay if you have a decent pair of walking shoes and plenty of good ideas. 

After dinner, it’s a case of goodbye Piccadilly Circus or farewell Leicester Square, depending on which Tube you take. I’m back at King’s Cross in no time and soon heading back up north. 

I’ve had plenty of short stays in London over the years, and the more I explore the more I realise the less I know about the capital. This is one of my favourite trips thanks to a phenomenal hotel, some great eateries, and a tour that definitely opened my eyes to the rich literary and fashion history of the smoke. 

Ends

Hotel review – The Churchill, Hyatt Regency, Portman Square, London

By @RogerCrow

As we know, location is everything when it comes to mini breaks. Why spend ages commuting from your hotel when you can be on the doorstep to one of the world’s most famous high streets?

Obviously staying so close to Oxford Street and the West End is not going to be cheap, especially when it’s a five-star residence, so do you get what you pay for? 

Hyatt Regency are obviously veterans of the business, and The Churchill is one of THE flagship hostelries in the capital, so I was thrilled when offered the chance to check out their premises. 

As you might imagine, the decor is stunning, like something from a Stanley Kubrick movie, with all the perfection that entails. If you know the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey, there are echoes of that, but this is far more warm and welcoming. 

Check-in is fast and efficient, which is just as well as it’s one of the hottest Fridays of the year and I want to freshen up before dinner across town in less than two hours. 

There are plenty of card-controlled lifts too, so no hanging around too long. 

My room on the fourth floor is sublime. None of that slotting a key card into the wall to get the lights to work. There’s a very comfy bed; terrific bathroom with one of those loos straight out of Star Trek – heated seats and all mod cons, which make you wonder how you cope with just a standard loo. There’s also an easy-to-understand shower. Not always a given even in some of the best hostelries. 

So, of utmost importance: can I get a decent cuppa? Well, thankfully yes, though at first glance the kettle is not obvious. Mine was hiding in an elegant cupboard, along with little cartons of milk – you’ll need a couple for one cup, unless you like a builders’ strength brew. 

There’s a fridge too, should you want to buy milk or cold drinks, snacks etc for your stay. And in the scorching summer of 2021, that’s obviously a very valuable asset. 

But what of those everyday basics you can’t live without? I thought I’d forgotten my toothpaste; asked at reception if they had any, and within a few minutes a dental kit was delivered to my door. Naturally I found my actual toothpaste soon after, but good to know in an emergency that Hyatt Regency has you covered. 

“No one should waste a day,” remarked Churchill in 1948, and that’s definitely the case in London. 

I was keen to pack as much into my 48 hours in town as possible, partly in case we wound up in another lockdown, and partly because I’m of an age where ‘kicking the derrière out of life’ is my maxim. My full-on Saturday of shopping, walking, culture and more left me exhausted. 

By the time I’m back at the Churchill, time to recharge the phone, and my feet, before dinner. Strangely there were no built-in USB ports, so best to take an adapter. 

Obviously there’s plenty of shops a few minutes’ walk away, so no shortage of places to buy one if you forget. And I’m sure if you ask on front desk one can be provided. It’s one of those sorts of hotels where the staff are only too pleased to help, whatever the challenge. 

Many hotels rely on two key things: the quality of the room and the dining. While the room definitely passes muster, I was keen to see how good the restaurant was. 

The breakfasts are especially impressive. On morning one I had terrific scrambled egg with shallots and mushrooms, toast, coffee, jam. You can also get assorted cereals. Nothing was too much trouble for the staff, and as you might imagine the place is immaculate. Even the mirror I sat next to was flawless. 

On day two the full English was a work of art. A beautifully crafted omelette, delicious sautéed mushrooms, perfect sausages and expertly cooked hash browns made me wish I could have polished the lot off. But despite the impressive amount of steps I clocked up that weekend, I knew it was better to eat half the amount, as frustrating as it was. 

The dinners are also excellent in The Montagu Kitchen. While waiting for my starter on the Saturday evening after my epic tour of the city, I was treated to a bowl of delicious houmous and hexagonal black crackers, which reminded me of something from Star Trek. This is what they eat in the future, and tasty they are. 

I loved my smoked salmon starter, and Winston burger main, which was cooked to perfection. I didn’t have room for dessert, but the cappuccino was a rich, foamy dream. 

An evening on the town, enjoying a trip down the Thames, offered a much needed rest, but getting to and from the Embankment left me desperate to plunge into that super comfy bed. 

Now a word of warning. If you have trouble getting up in a morning, the beds at Hyatt Regency are not going to help. They’re so comfortable you could lie there all day, or at least until room service turns up. 

Night one was very warm, because I was too tired to sort the air con, but once I did I slept like Rip Van Winkle. Night two was an absolute dream. 

That 2001 feel in 2021

I had a terrific couple of days at the Churchill. It’s hard to fault any element of the residence, and wouldn’t need much persuading to return. Arnaud, one of the grand fromages at Hyatt, is a descendant of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, the author of The Little Prince. It reminded me of one of my favourite quotes from any book. 

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

The world’s greatest scrambled egg?

And as visually stunning as the Hyatt Regency is, it’s those feelgood memories you carry in your heart which really matter. The comfy bed; the beautifully simple shower; the excellent staff, and the views overlooking Portland Place in another of those strange summers when London feels like it’s coming back to life after 18 months on hold. 

There’s everything you need for a great stay, from the fitness centre and laundry service to room service and a rather nice little shop. 

Whether you take your little princes and princesses, or like me are travelling solo, Churchill is one of those ultimate luxuries that’s well worth experiencing.

Thanks Hyatt Regency. You have done us proud. 

Ends

Film review-Dirt Music (2019)

Starring Kelly Macdonald, Garrett Hedlund, David Wenham

Directed by Gregor Jordan 

Certificate 15

By @RogerCrow

When Kelly Macdonald made her debut in Trainspotting back in 1996, I spent far too long reciting her post-nightclub speech to Ewan McGregor. (Well, not to him, but to mates). 

It was brilliantly written, but when delivered in those glorious Scots tones, it was like poetry. Little wonder she was snapped up for no end of films and commercials in the years since. 

Recently of course she stole the show in the most exciting British drama of the year, Line of Duty. Her turn as a morally ambiguous copper had millions of us hooked, and she managed to enunciate every word, every syllable. In a genre dominated by misheard or mumbled dialogue, her lines had the clarity of an ABBA song. 

But dramas with a washed-out colour scheme can be tiring after a while. What Kelly needed was sunshine, and the golden hues of Australia. So thank heavens she signed up for Dirt Music, the cinematic equivalent of a romantic novel bought at airports, when we’re allowed to fly anywhere. Yes, Dirt Music might be in the running for worst title of any year, but thankfully the film is a great way to pass the time.  

She plays Georgie, an alcoholic nurse locked in a frustrating relationship with emotionally cold crayfish baron Jim Buckridge (David Wenham). 

She may have a home to die for, but the atmosphere is colder than the ice for his day’s haul. In a series of ‘meet cutes’, she crosses paths with hunky poacher Lu, played by Tron Legacy’s Garrett Hedlund. He did a good job in that fantasy epic, but all eyes were on the dazzling visuals, CG Jeff Bridges, and Olivia Wilde, so don’t worry. They’re soon creating MUCH sexual tension, especially after her car breaks down and he just happens to be passing (what are the chances?). 

How can she resist? After all, he’s mean, moody, has an adorable dog and walks around with his shirt open to reveal a torso like Barry Gibb, circa 1977. Nurse Georgie may as well be blinking cartoon love hearts. And before long they give into their passion, but trying to keep a lid on her desire while surviving the frostbite of her icy home life is key to her survival. She’s an outsider. The locals talk, and she knows the affair will wreck her life. But hey, it’s hunky Lu, and which red-blooded woman could resist? 

I feel for David Wenham, who had a hard time playing Sean Bean’s emo brother warrior in Lord of the Rings, and now portrays the wronged partner. Admittedly the roles wouldn’t have worked if Hedlund and he played each other’s roles, but even so. 

Anyway, we eventually discover why Jim is such a cold fish, and both David and Kelly give the sort of heart-wrenching performances that will have some reaching for a box of tissues. The third act involves an act of 127 Hours-style survival, thankfully without that gory scene. 

Will the adorable, troubled heroine find her burly lover? Well, that would be telling, but safe to say this ticks so many boxes for those who love a good old fashioned tale of forbidden romance set against some stunning Australian backdrops that it should go down a storm on home entertainment, and in a year or more when it pops up on Film4. 

I’ve not read Tim Winton’s critically acclaimed novel of the same name, here adapted by piping hot screenwriter Jack (His Dark Materials) Thorne, but I do know this is great entertainment with a fine cast and glorious landscapes. Settle back and enjoy. 

Cast 8

Script 7

Cinematography 8

Score 7

Editing 7

Film review-Black Widow (2021)

Starring Scarlett Johansson, Florence Pugh, Rachel Weisz

Directed by Cate Shortland

Certificate 12A

By @RogerCrow

Just when I thought I couldn’t love Scarlett Johansson more, there’s a scene in Black Widow where she recites lines from Moonraker. I can only assume because director Cate Shortland was born two days before me, it’s a generational thing, or that she has very good taste. 

Either way, my grin gets even broader. And things keep improving throughout my trip to one of York’s shiniest new cinemas. 

I’m sat in a proper mainstream multiplex for the first time since the spring of 2020, and it’s like a little piece of heaven. It’s not just the new car smell I’ve missed or the popcorn in the foyer, but the full-on adverts for pending films. Those super comfy reclining seats are a definite bonus too. 

And then there’s the film itself, the movie I’ve been waiting more than a decade for. 

When Scarlett made her debut in 2010’s Iron Man 2, she was one of the best things in a very troubled movie. Aside from being the sort of personal assistant you’d expect for Tony Stark (super smart and incredibly alluring), her Black Widow alter ego was everything fans of the comics wanted. A kick-ass heroine with a deadpan sense of humour. 

Of course before her standalone movie could be made there was the matter of that Infinity War to get out of the way. And if you’ve seen Avengers: Endgame, you’ll know things didn’t end too well for Natasha Romanoff. So, given that we know her outcome, how good could her solo movie be? Well, surprisingly, the answer is very good. 

We open with scenes of sisterly bonding as a blue-haired young Natasha and her younger blonde sibling Yelena play like a couple of everyday kids. But it soon transpires that their parents (David Harbour and Rachel Weisz) are fugitives, and we’re treated to one of those edge-of-the-seat action scenes with bangs, crashes and feats of daring that remind us why the big screen is so worth shelling out a few quid for. 

The head bad guy, Dreykov, is played by Ray Winstone with all the menace of an EastEnd gangster bearing a grudge against humanity. It might be a big budget comic book movie, but Ray is on top form here as the fearsome antagonist. The grown-up Natasha and Yelena, superbly portrayed by Florence Pugh, with a hint of Killing Eve’s Villanelle, are the backbone of the movie. Their bickering sibling relationship is screen gold, not least because the younger sister sends up Natasha’s hero pose landing. It’s meta funny, and helps alleviate the tension when things get rather dark. And there are times Black Widow alludes to some extreme practices, fleshing out a storyline from years ago.

The fact this exposition takes place after one of the best prison breakout scenes of recent years is all the more surprising. 

There’s not a weak link in the acting chain, with OT Fagbenle (so good in one of the best Dr Who eps) also on top form as Natasha’s fixer, Mason, the guy who obtains heavy transport when needed. A ‘Q’ to Romanoff’s Bond if you like. And while Natasha’s broken family dynamic plays like scenes from The Incredibles (Harbour squeezing into his superhero suit is pure Mr Incredible), it’s still great entertainment. 

Whether by accident or design, there’s another nod to Moonraker in that stunning free-fall finale, which is best seen on the biggest screen possible. (I saw five minutes in Imax at the same Cineworld, the second biggest in the UK apparently, so I won’t need much persuading to watch the whole thing again in that format). 

Lorne Balfe’s score is everything you want from a high octane blockbuster, and the effects provided by thousands of technicians are pretty special. I was in a trance-like state watching those closing titles as that glorious score played out. Yes, it had been that long since I’d seen a great big screen blockbuster that even end credits were a treat. 

My fear was that Black Widow would be as dull as Red Sparrow, which covers similar ground, without the superheroes, but it’s far better than I could have hoped for. 

If you love great action cinema with a solid cast and thrilling set pieces, then mask up, shell out and enjoy. It’s worth every penny. 

Cast 8

Score 8

Direction 8

Effects 8

Rewatchability 9

Film review- The Millionaires’ Express (1986)

Starring Sammo Hung, Yuen Biao, Cynthia Rothrock

Directed by Sammo Hung

By @RogerCrow

Ah those Carry On movies, a staple part of British culture for decades. Carry On Cowboy was one of the most enjoyable of the saga, and there’s elements of that in this action comedy adventure from Sammo Hung. 

Given the fact this was made in 1986, the Blu-ray version looks incredible, especially those exterior shots set against snowy landscapes. Every flake of snow on a face reminds you how good HD movies can be these days. 

And there’s a feast of extras for fans of Hung. Four versions of the movie, all as crisp and vibrant as you could wish for. 

Having watched assorted Hung movies is recent months, it’s a reminder of what a versatile talent he is. Okay, for many in the west he will only be known for US cop saga Martial Law, but he wears many hats, and not just a Stetson. 

Here Hung plays a loveable rogue who teams up with an incorruptible Sheriff to save their home town from certain destruction.

Aside from slapstick comedy, there’s also a touch of romance and a hint of propaganda. Work hard, be a good citizen. That sort of thing. 

Few experts do a better job of shedding an informed light on Asian cinema than Frank Djeng, and again he does a great job with his commentary. 

It opens in the frozen wastes of Russia, though it was actually filmed in Canada, which is rare for a Hong Kong production. 

Sammo could have saved a fortune with studio shots rather than trekking to North America, but his attention to detail paid dividends. 

And although occasional scenes were set in China, Thailand doubled for some of the fine exteriors, while interiors were shot in Golden Harvest’s Hong Kong studios.

Though it might be Hung’s tribute to American Westerns, it also owes a debt to some of the best Spaghetti Westerns, as well as silent movie legends like Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd. 

As with most Sammo Hung movies, the stunts are something else, such as the moment a large woman jumps from a burning building and lands on what looks like very hard ground. 

And then there’s the minute an actor jumps off a three-storey building, lands on his feet and carries on acting. No double and no editing to hide the feat. Incredible. Even if a hole had been dug under the actor and covered in padding and dust, it’s still one of those scenes that’s worth watching a few times. 

The period setting has given this offbeat curio a gloriously long shelf life. The stunts, wire work and action scenes have to be seen to be believed, and while the script could have done with more work, the money is definitely up there on screen. There’s a close combat scene in the third act which is a sight to behold. When Sammo kicks Cynthia Rothrock over a chair, again it’s worth hitting the rewind button a few times. The shot where Cynthia’s stunt double is dropped to the ground is guaranteed to leave you wincing. 

Even if martial arts comedies aren’t your thing, this is well worth a look to see a team of stunt experts at the top of their game. Though it might have gone over the heads of many a Hong Kong cinemagoer, for us in Blighty it’s a real gem that is almost as enjoyable as watching Sid James do his thing as the Rumpo Kid. 

Stunts 9

Cinematography 8

Direction 8

Script 7

Score 7

Hotel review: Citadines, Islington

By @RogerCrow

Staying in London can cost an arm and a leg these days, so it’s good to know you don’t have to lose a limb or spend a fortune to get a decent apartment hotel room. 

The last time I was in Islington was in 1988. U2’s Rattle and Hum had just been released and I was walking around town like a zombie after a bout of illness during a college trip to a holiday camp further south. Half of our party had been wiped out by the bug, so returning to this moneyed area during a time of Covid seems like a similar thing only on a global scale. 

Thankfully this time I was feeling a lot more chipper. Exiting the Tube at Highbury and Islington, I later realised Angel was a much better option. Just cross the road when you leave the (Angel) station; turn right; walk for 10-15 minutes depending on your speed and how many cases you’re pulling, and make a sharp left when you see and archway leading to the Odeon and other attractions. 

My destination was a former Royal Mail postal sorting centre. Like any hotel, you might have a bit of a wait until check-in at Citadines, but it’s worth it. It’s light, airy and tastefully decorated, as is my room. 

With a comfy bed, decent shower and bathroom, the added bonus is the kitchen area, which meant if I didn’t want to eat out, there was a hob, microwave and sink to make me feel at home. And yes, there’s an iron, safe and all the other handy items to ensure you have what you need for that important meeting or just a night out. A decent flat screen TV doesn’t hurt either, along with USB ports, soft-close loo seat, and other must have items. 

Top priority after check-in at any hotel is: how fast can you get a decent cuppa?

I gave room service a quick ring as I had a mere two sachets of decaf coffee, and a couple of sugars and that was it. Within minutes I had a handful of small milk cartons and tea bags so I was sorted. 

On the downside the air con didn’t work, which was a major setback given the fact we were heading into July, and though the weather had been overcast, it was like an oven. 

As there was no team of ace technicians arriving in the following hour, I decided old fashioned methods were called for. “The air con won’t work if the window is open,” claimed the legend on the window. Given the AC’s current state, it was just as well. 

Okay, the temperature wasn’t perfect, and there was no plug-in fan. But I’ve had far worse nights in London hotels, so mustn’t grumble. 

Inbetween room-based shenanigans, I got suited and booted for a trip to the theatre. The shower was a dream to use, so no hopping around like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day until the temperature was right. 

Even with the aid of the Tube, a four-mile trek into town was no bad thing; I was in desperate to burn off those excess calories. Lockdown has led to more excess baggage than I’d have liked, so a trip to London, racing from A to B is a great workout if nothing else. 

After a fabulous night at the Criterion Theatre in Leicester Square (Amelie: The Musical is a must if you get the chance), I’m happier than the elated masses who celebrated England’s Euros win against Germany during the first act.  

The following morning I decided to grab breakfast downstairs at Citadines. Except the C word had put paid to that. One local eatery apparently offers a discount if you present your door card. Slight problem: it was closed. 

Luckily Megan’s, just around the corner from Citadines, is a stunning eatery offering healthy dishes in great surroundings. Well aware that my usual full English wasn’t helping my expanding waistline, I opted for the vegan breakfast. With a couple of cappuccinos and an apple and orange juice, I was ready to face the day. 

Megan’s, Islington

Check-out was more efficient than check-in. And getting back to King’s Cross was easier than expected. Just an 11-minute walk to the Angel station; one stop to King’s Cross on the Northern Line and you’re there. 

Islington is a fabulous place bursting with great attractions, from cinemas and eateries to Estate Agents’ windows. Yes, for a mere million quid, you too can own a 25% share in a garden shed. 

I’ll think I’ll stick to nipping in and out until those Lottery numbers pay off. At least I know where I can afford to stay, even if it is just for a few nights. 

Ends

Film review – High Ground (2020)

Starring Jacob Junior Nayinggul, Simon Baker, Callan Mulvey

Certificate 15

Directed by Stephen Maxwell Johnson

By @RogerCrow

Simon Baker is terrific in just about everything he does, especially The Mentalist and The Devil Wears Prada. However, this Australian Western really gives him a chance to shine.

It opens with engaging scenes of Aboriginal life, where families do family things and all seems right with the world. And given such a placid opening, you know chaos is just around the corner.

It’s 1919, and veteran sniper Travis (Baker) is now a policeman in the vast and remote landscape of Northern Australia. He loses control of an operation resulting in the massacre of an indigenous tribe. 

With his superior officers intent on burying the truth, Travis leaves disgusted, before being forced back a dozen years later in the hunt for outlaw Baywara, an Aboriginal warrior attacking new settlers. 

Recruiting Gutjuk as his tracker, Travis realises this young mission-raised indigenous man is the only known massacre-survivor. 

When the truths of Travis’ past actions are suddenly revealed, it is Travis who becomes the hunted.

Baker is as splendid as ever, despite an initially unsympathetic role, while Jacob Junior Nayinggul offers excellent support as Gutjuk. 

Director Stephen Maxwell Johnson does an excellent job of sustaining the attention throughout, and while it’s not an easy watch at times, the characters are fascinating and those Australian landscapes are beautifully shot. Take a bow cinematographer Andrew Commis. 

Johnson has remarked that his aim was to take an audience “on a ride through an aspect of Australia’s history that is under-represented, hopefully encouraging them to rethink the Australian story.”

He certainly manages to do that. 

Solid support comes from Caren Pistorious, who was rather good in Russell Crowe thriller Unhinged, and Callan Mulvey (who you might remember from TV saga The Luminaries) is a terrific villain.

The score, or lack of it for the most part, is a smart move. There’s none of that telling you what to think and when, which lends the movie a documentary feel.

Though it takes a while to adjust to the ‘geography’ of this early 20th-century drama, it’s well worth sticking with.

Yes, there are echoes of classic dramas Breaker Morant (which also starred the great Jack Thompson) and Walkabout, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this also achieved acclaimed status as it works its magic on cinemagoers in Blighty.

Cast 8

Cinematography 8

Direction 8

Editing 8