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Busted (1997)

July 11, 2017 — Leave a comment

Corey Feldman’s first and only attempt at directing was this 1997 softcore porn/screwball comedy written by Maria James and Ronald Jacobs. Largely forgotten by many, those who have done any reading up on Busted will know it as the film that saw Feldman having to fire his co-star and good bud, Corey Haim. Despite that, and the fact Haim’s scenes largely sit on the cutting room floor, attempts were made to sell this as a Two Coreys movie in the same breath as Licence to Drive and Dream a Little Dream. I’m sorry to report that Busted isn’t even Dream a Little Dream 2.

Essentially Police Academy meets Naked Gun, Busted revolves around the Amity police department who are struggling with the distinct lack of crime in their town. Apparently, times have been hard since their town was attacked by a shark… Yes, Busted is also a sequel of sorts to Jaws. No, really. Anyway, in order to make ends meet the Head of Vice, David (Feldman), opens up their station as a brothel; allowing the sex workers to stay safe and for David and his team to siphon some much needed cash into the station. A spanner is thrown in the works when Captain Mary Mae (Marianna Morgan) is requested by the Mayor of Amity to look into unusual goings on at the precinct. Cue lots of bare breasts, simulated sex acts and grown worthy jokes that even your dad wouldn’t want to say.

Working on an extremely limited budget is no excuse for the poor effort on display, with numerous scenes appearing to be the product of the first take. Lines are rushed, cues are missed and Busted highlights itself as not being funny enough to be classed a comedy, or even sexy enough to distract from this fact. Hell, a cameoing Elliot Gould does nothing to save this utter mess. Perhaps one for the self-hating Two Coreys completest, the only truly surprising thing is how progressive the film is towards the LGBTQIA+ community. Well, as progressive as it can be for 1997.

Keanu (2016)

July 10, 2017 — Leave a comment

When photographer Rell (Jordan Peele) is dumped by his girlfriend, his self-pity party is immediately cancelled when a stray kitten turns up at his door. Taking it and calling it Keanu, Rell finds a new lease of life in his furry companion. However, returning from home after a night at the pictures with his friend Clarence (Keegan-Michael Key), Rell finds his house ransacked and, more importantly, Keanu missing. And so begins the two friends’ journey into the darker side of town to get the little kitty back which sees them cross paths with murderers, gangbangers and Anna Faris.

Directed by Peter Atencio, who headed up all the episodes of the sketch show Key and PeeleKeanu follows a similar path to films such as Pineapple Express and Hot Fuzz, where every day folk get caught up life-threatening situations. Cue lots of screaming, shouting and wondering how to use handguns.

What makes this film stand out from its peers is how dark the film goes so quickly. Starting off with a bloody shootout in an abandoned church, Keanu contains a surprising amount of violence. Take the scene where, after being mistaken for a couple of assassins, Rell and Clarence find themselves caught up in a drug deal that quickly turns into a bloodbath. The scene would be truly shocking if it wasn’t balanced out by Clarence teaching a bunch of gang members about the virtues of George Michael’s Faith.

It’s this dichotomy that works so well in Keanu’s favour; the absurdity of these two middle class men completely out of their comfort zone. Typical of the humour found in their sketch show, Key and Peele deftly switch between jokes about racial politics and the absurdity of action movie tropes. The jokes might not always stick, but there’s always the promise of another one just around the corner.

If you’re a fan of their show or just having a good time in general, then Keanu is certainly one to check out. A laugh out loud comedy, it’s a shame that, at the time of writing this, Keanu didn’t receive a better release in Australia before been shoved straight onto DVD and digital download.

Recovery (2016)

July 9, 2017 — Leave a comment

We’ve all become quite dependent on smartphones, haven’t we? Look at the anger the public is willing to hurl at Apple after their recent decision to go cold turkey with headphone jacks; there’s probably still someone crying about it now. Smartphones are our gatekeepers to our social lives. If they don’t work then how are we supposed to get on Facebook and twitter, let alone make a simple phonecall to tell people we’re alive! The aforementioned life drainers play an uncredited part in Recovery, a new horror film by Darrall Wheat (Slumber).

On the eve before her high school graduation, Jessie (Kirby Bliss Blanton) discovers through Facebook that her boyfriend is cheating on her. Looking to get over him, she plans a night on the town with smooth dude Logan (Samuel Larsen), irritant little brother Miles (Alex Shaffer) and brand new friend Kim (Rachel DiPillo). When Kim goes missing with Jessie’s phone, the use of a ‘find my phone’ app helps the remaining friends track her down. Unfortunately, it also puts them in the crosshairs of a murderous family intent on doing incredibly nasty things to each of them.

Recovery has that 90s teen sheen to it that will appeal to fans of the Scream franchise. Whilst the plot is pretty straight forward – hunt, find kill, repeat – it still manages to tear you rug from under you. Perhaps it’s because we think we’re all so knowing when it comes to slashers, when one tries a something a little old school we don’t end up seeing the wood for the trees. We expect there to be a grandiose revelation where the killer’s motives are exposed for all to see! Either way, this critic didn’t see the twist until the last second.

And yes, whilst it certainly might not be the most revolutionary film in the horror genre, there’s enough here to guarantee that  is liable to be a staple of midnight screenings at sleepovers. After all, what’s a little screaming amongst friends?

This review previously appeared on

Terri Hooley made a name for himself during the 70s and 80s in Belfast. Whilst Northern Ireland was being splintered by sectarian violence, aka The Troubles, Hooley had become the Godfather of Punk. And it all started with a desire to make Belfast a little more like Jamaica. As Hooley reasons, they’ve both got their problems, but at least Jamaica has reggae. He is a man unwilling to let life get him down. He boils down the Troubles as simply one day having lots of friends from different walks of life and then suddenly having lots of friends who were either Catholic or Protestant. His stubbornness not to get pick a side or to flee Belfast like others, made him a target for violence.

Directed by Lisa Barros D’Sa and Glenn Leyburm (Cherrybomb), Good Vibrations follows Hooley, played by Richard Dormer, as he sets up his shop, Good Vibrations, and finds himself nurturing the underground punk scene, turning his business into record label of sorts.  Dormer plays Hooley with unbridled optimism. During his first experience of punk music, the camera allows us to linger on his cheer, laugh and boot stomp. This is a man falling in love with music all over again.

Whilst the film is all heart, it doesn’t hide away from the horrific violence on the streets. A rather potent scene sees Hooly and his bands experiencing a crash form euphoria as they return to Belfast after a weekend gigging. It’s sad, sobering and a reminder of what was happening at the time.

In terms of structure, Good Vibrations is your standard biopic. We witness him falling in love, struggling to make ends meet, having the disastrous first gig, discovering the Undertones and so on, but it never feels trite. Instead you become swept up it in all, relishing every moment of being in the company of Hooley and his gang of well meaning ne’er do wells.

This review previously appeared on

Arthur (2011)

July 8, 2017 — Leave a comment

Arthur is not as bad as the critics make out. In fact, some of the criticisms I’ve read previously suggest a lot of the opinions are knee-jerk reactions to a remake of a ‘classic’. However, there are some genuine laughs to be had from our drunk protagonist stumbling between the moon and New York City. I know it’s crazy, but it’s true. (See what I did there…)

The best scenes seem to be those where Russell Brand, who plays the titular Arthur, has been allowed to run away with the script and, as a result, breathe life into Arthur. His mistrusting rant at a docile horse and his childlike reaction to being involved in a police chase stick out as being examples of how Brand can confidently play innocent and friendly. The problem is that these scenes of Arthur the man-child are bookended with scenes of Arthur the sleazy Lothario. All men are created with two sides to their personality, but the extremes shown here suggest that Arthur could be more schizophrenic than alcoholic. One minute driving around in the Batmobile; the next, talking about how he likes his women flexible. It just doesn’t work.

The inconsistency in Arthur’s character isn’t just found there. We are constantly reminded by others in the film that Arthur is a borderline genius and yet this is the man who has never seen spaghetti hoops and doesn’t understand how to hail a taxi or what email is. If he’s so intelligent, how come modern life seems to have passed him by.

The biggest problem with Arthur is how quickly it runs out of steam after the first act is over. Nothing happens for a very long time and no amount of Brand falling over furniture or gurning changes that fact. A sub-plot involving him sobering up whilst he looks after a sick Helen Mirren is all very well and natural in a film about alcohol, but it adds nothing to anything. When it’s all over you realise your mind has drifted and you’re counting the tiles on the ceiling.

I repeat, Arthur is not a bad film, but it’s not as zany and comedic as it wants to be.

Israeli Writing/Directing team, Aharon Keshales and Navot Papushado, have provided in this, their second feature, a lavish buffet of dark treats that punctures the concept of machismo and questions whether the punishment can ever suitably fit the crime.

On a bright day in Israel, a Religious Education teacher is kidnapped by two men: one is the father of a recently murdered child and the other a dirty cop looking to solve a spate of similar atrocities. Hidden in the basement of a country cottage and believing themselves to have their man, they devise ways to torture a confession out of their hostage.

The subject matter is bleak, but Big Bad Wolves also manages to be perversely funny. Our torturers take time out from breaking fingers, so one can take a call from their abrasive and interfering mother. This constant switch and bait of the genre could easily derail everything. However, in the hands of Keshales and Paushado, it’s an act of plate spinning that really pays off. The film’s humour sharpens the nastiness before and after rather than providing a welcome reprieve.

Tight scripting, solid performances and a killer ending add up to a film that proves genre filmmaking isn’t limited to the US and Australia.

This review previously appeared on


Mindhorn (2017)

June 13, 2017 — Leave a comment

Given a worldwide release via Netflix, as well as a theatrical stint in the UK, Mindhorn is the brainchild of Julian Barratt (Aaaaaaaah!) and Simon Farnaby (Bunny and the Bull), who worked together on the wildly popular Mighty Boosh. Directed by Sean Foley (Brass Eye), Barratt plays Richard Thorncroft, a washed up actor reduced to appearing in embarrassing adverts for socks. However, it wasn’t always like this. In his heyday, Thorncroft had his own TV show in which he played Detective Mindhorn, a crime fighter who could see the truth in people through the use of his Six Million Dollar Man-esque bionic eye. It’s a show that’s all but faded into obscurity, save for its successful spinoff show starring Thorncroft’s former co-star, Peter Eastman (Steve Coogan). Oh, and it also plays a large part in the life of Paul Melly (Russell Tovey), a man wanted for murder and who believes only Mindhorn can help him. As in the actual Mindhorn… Enlisted by the police, Thorncroft returns to his former show to prevent another murder and, hopefully, get his show rereleased on DVD. A man has got to dream right?

The aforementioned Coogan covered similar ground in Alpha Papa, which saw radio DJ Alan Partridge caught up in a hostage situation at his place of work. Whilst Mindhorn never reaches the same heights as Alpha Papa, it manages to do enough to brush the former away and set up its own little world. Thorncroft is more pathetic than Partridge, who had his incompetence justified by never actually being out of work or money. Whilst Thorncroft is willing to use a tragic death to boost his popularity, fate has pre-emptively punished him by taking his hair, his looks and letting his former lover, Patricia (Essie Davies), run off with his ex-stuntman (Farnaby). Returning to Isle of Wright, where Mindhorn was filmed, is a lot like Gary and the gang returning to Newton Haven in The World’s End. It opens up old wounds, emotionally cripples Thorncroft and throws him into life threatening situations. See, this is why you never go home!

Much gentler in its comedy than its pedigree would suggest, Mindhorn manages to be surprisingly touching at times with Barratt generating enough sympathy from his audience that you end up wishing him well in his ill-deserved second chance at success. This is a man who has crushed his friend’s underfoot just to release a solo album, but when we witness him atoning for his sins, you can’t help but want to give him a hug. Throw in the absurdist humour you’d expect from the former Howard Moon, as well as several pot-shots at the high concept shows of the 80s and 90s, and Mindhorn offers up more than enough laughs to get you through an evening.