New Zealander. Moving Image Producer. Musician. Editor in Chief of Letterboxd.
"Hard to get the films these days. It's all video, video..."
It’s the eleventy billionth viewing in our house, and the comic detail and silly sight gags in this lovely tale of immigrant acceptance keep on delighting. The back half of the taxidermied animals in Nicole Kidman’s lab. “The English have 107 different ways to talk about rain.” Mrs Bird’s knees. The tea train. “My heart, she took a little longer to arrive” - a perfect line about homesickness. The beige car: “It’s a karma-neutral colour.”
Also, I want Sally Hawkins’ wardrobe.
OMG. The waterbed. The Para pool. The baby oil. The booze. The overflowing ashtrays. The video camera. The bikes. The blue light disco. The fireworks. The backyard stunts. The existential angst. The wigs. The shorts. Togs togs togs. The sweet pain of recognition. Fucking genius final scene.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Aside from the yawnful Good-Guys-White / Bad-Guys-Other-Colours casting, this was a surprisingly enjoyable action flick... until it fucked out in the third act.
It was partly the utterly weird special effects. Partly that they sent their only lady-spy off into space 'cos no plot for her. But mostly because of a series of gags right near the end in which the only moral (blonde, beautiful) hold-out amongst the captured guests offers our hero ass-sex if he sets her free.