Fairly obvious and anodyne farce, in which Noel Coward’s undoubted wit struggles to emerge from the sub-Carry On prat falling and innuendo of the whole thing, and the rather limpen, rote direction.
Dame Judi gamely tries to have fun as a huckster medium but everyone else is slumming it really. Not offensive, just bland.
You probably already have an opinion on Amy Winehouse. I know I did. Fuelled by the tabloids and the endless interviews and footage of her gigs and appearances. You probably know how her story ends. Amy, the latest painstaking documentary piece from Asif Kapadia--following the critically acclaimed Senna--assumes that knowledge yet also projects a timeline, a chronology, from the birth of an edgy North London Jewish jazz singer to the decline of a global music icon. It's a story you…
For many years, Wes Anderson has been celebrated as an offbeat American auteur, with a narrative and visual style all his own - a colourful, melancholic whimsy riven with a biting, black comedic undercurrent. At times it's worked well, others it misses the mark, but with The Grand Budapest Hotel he has created something truly wonderful. Inspired by the writings of Stefan Zweig, Anderson's film is light, fun, thoughtful, cheeky, rude, farcical and emotional all in one rip roaring stew,…
