What the fuck did I just see because I think I loved it. Somehow even more strange and disgusting and brilliant than anyone prepared me for. And I’m so glad I wasn’t prepared.
This was not an unadulterated hit with our London Film Festival audience. As we left the theatre you could actually feel revulsion and aggression radiating out of maybe half of the crowd. It was especially noticeable because my buddy and I came out absolutely giddy with delight.
WHAT A BEAUTIFUL AND BANANAS FILM.
Yes, the queer-coding of villains is bad, but also consider evil Nicholas Hoult, naked but for sock suspenders, flirting with George Mackay while a mini-donkey wanders past.
I badly wanted this to work but it’s the same awkward, shallow joke over and over. It could have been properly weird. It could have gone deep on character. It could have had real jokes. The trailer promised all three! It does none of these things. Pedro Pascal is an absolute joy and a treasure for every moment he’s on screen, but that’s the only thing that sings in the whole movie.
Side-note: when will we as a species acknowledge that Sharon Horgan can only do one character - nay, one line reading - and it’s an irritating one?
Yet again Channing brings the bisexual himbo energy that Hollywood cinema has been sorely lacking!!! A prince.
Did you know that director Nick Broomfield once slept with the same woman Leonard Cohen did? Because Nick Broomfield wants you to know he once slept with the same woman Leonard Cohen did. He made a whole film about it.
Who needs serotonin when there is Ben Whishaw sitting on the floor by the fire cradling a cat.
