December’s Failures

Welcome to my monthly “Failures” column, where I look back at some of the films I could, would, maybe even should have watched last month… but failed to.

On the big screen, Sony’s latest attempt at making a Spider-Man spin-off, Kraven the Hunter finally arrived almost two years after its first announced release date, and seemed to be received about as well as you’d expect for a Sony Spider-Man spin-off that had a two-year delay (i.e. poorly). In similar desperate franchise moves, animation The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim seemed to generate more column inches because they admitted it was rushed out to secure the ongoing Rings film rights, rather than anyone saying anything about the film itself. I feel like Disney’s Mufasa: The Lion King, a “live-action” prequel that no one asked for, must fall into a similar bracket.

Conversely, I’ve read Sonic the Hedgehog 3 is good; the crazy idea of making a Robbie Williams biopic starring a CG monkey seems to have actually paid off in Better Man; and I keep hearing how good Daniel Craig is in Queer. Various other films managed theatrical releases of various other sizes, of course, but the one that most intrigues me is Shakespeare / video game mashup documentary Grand Theft Hamlet, which I believe is coming to MUBI sometime early in 2025, so I’ll look out for it then.

Over on streaming, various attempts at creating a Christmas classic seem to have been overshadowed by Carry-On — not a modern revamp of the old British comedy series, but an airport-based thriller starring Taron Egerton. I’d probably have watched it if I had a Netflix subscription (there’s a few things on there I need to catch up on now, so maybe it’s time I signed up again). As for the aforementioned seasonal fare, Netflix had the Richard Curtis written and produced animation That Christmas, plus 15-rated “birth of Jesus” movie Mary starring Anthony Hopkins as Herod (that’s literally all I know about it. I’ve not seen anyone discuss or review it. Is it actually real?); Sky Cinema and their fateful Original brand tried public-domain-IP mashup The Night Before Christmas in Wonderland; and Amazon had the streaming debut of (briefly theatrically released) wannabe-blockbuster Red One — which apparently was a huge hit for them, even after it flopped on the big screen, thus proving once again that the best way to ensure a streaming success is to have a wide theatrical release first.

Meanwhile, Disney+ had… fuck all. You’d’ve expected them to trot out something seasonal, right? But I don’t think they even had a premiere that was, er, non-seasonal. Even Apple TV+ spat out Fly Me to the Moon, the Channing Tatum/Scarlett Johansson Nasa-during-the-space-race romcom with posters that made it look like a fake movie-in-a-movie. But Disney+ never have anything much new anymore in the way of original movies, it seems to me (just their high-profile theatrical releases making relatively-speedy debuts). Has the Mouse already got wise to the false promises of streaming originals? Let’s hope others follow suit.

In the second tier of films making their streaming debuts, basketball anime The First Slam Dunk came to Netflix. Sports movies aren’t normally my bag, but I’ve seen this on various “great films” lists (especially animated ones) for what feels like years, so here’s a chance to… be reminded to watch the other copy I, ahem, got hold of fairly recently. Indeed, Netflix seemed to specialise in things I already own but haven’t watched, which is always irritating. Other titles included Marcel the Shell with Shoes On, Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, Scream VI, and Knock at the Cabin, which has already been on NOW so I’m doubly miffed at myself. NOW themselves pulled the same trick with Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, plus Abigail, Kung Fu Panda 4, and A Quiet Place: Day One. And at the more… esoteric end of the spectrum, MUBI had a new version of an old film in Caligula: The Ultimate Cut, and a film they self-described as Andrea Arnold’s “long-awaited return to fiction filmmaking”, Bird.

The ever-changing streaming back catalogue is a beast of greater size than even Santa’s bulging sack, but a selection of titles of particular interest included Killer Joe, Mississippi Grind, The Reader, Warm Bodies, and the return of streaming perennial The Notebook (all on Amazon); Bodies Bodies Bodies, I, Tonya, King Richard, and Stan & Ollie, and the original Point Break, which I’ve been meaning to rewatch (all on iPlayer); and Brian and Charles, I’m Your Man, Petite Maman, A Quiet Place Part II, Spencer, and The Worst Person in the World (all on Channel 4). There were also various other Christmas-related movies, like The Holiday (which has somehow transformed into a modern classic in recent years) and various versions of The Grinch, none of which I’m going to watch in January because it’s not Christmas anymore. Maybe next year.

The above paragraph doesn’t even touch on all the films that arrived on streamers this month but I already own on disc and haven’t watched, acting as a reminder of the slight ludicrousness of my physical media collection. A soupçon of particularly daft ones (read: I’ve owned them for so long, why haven’t I watched them?) includes on Howard’s The Missing, Guy Ritchie’s Revolver, and Alfonso Cuarón’s Y Tu Mamá También on Netflix (I own all of those on DVD. Why would I watch a DVD when they’re streaming in HD? Besides, for all I know they could have disc rot or something by now); Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby, Billy Wilder’s The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, and Ben Affleck’s The Town on Prime; Terry Gilliam’s The Brothers Grimm, Sergio Leone’s A Fistful of Dynamite, and Alex Cox’s Repo Man on NOW; Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now, trilogy-completing How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World, and John Frankenheimer’s The Train on iPlayer; and Brian De Palma’s Carlito’s Way, Robert Eggers’s The Northman, and M Night Shyamalan’s Old on Channel 4. And that’s without even starting on stuff to rewatch.

In the face of such overwhelming evidence that I don’t watch enough of what I buy, I naturally went ahead and bought even more. Now, of course I’m going to buy something like Alien: Romulus, because I own all the others and I’m a completist. I’m not sure the same logic really applies to Joker: Folie à Deux (I stopped buying all the DC movies a while ago), but there we go, I bought it anyway. And I couldn’t resist a classic like Galaxy Quest making its 4K debut, especially when it comes with all the correct aspect ratios for the first time on home media. As for most of the rest of my purchases…

You know what, they’re not the sort of thing that usually turns up on streaming, so I feel a lot less bad about those. I’m talking the kind of stuff put out by Radiance: their Luis Buñuel box set, Nothing Is Sacred, containing Viridiana, The Exterminating Angels, and Simon of the Desert; Swedish crime thriller The Man from Majorca; and Japanese neo-noir Yokohama BJ Blues. I’m talking various labels’ commitment to getting loads of classic Hong Kong action on disc, which this month was represented by Eureka’s wittily-titled four-film set of historical epics directed by the prolific Chang Cheh, Horrible History, containing Marco Polo, The Pirate, Boxer Rebellion, and Four Riders. I’m talking stuff you can only get if you import it from Australia, like the third volume in Imprint’s After Dark: Neo-Noir Cinema Collection, containing Homicide, White Sands, The Crossing Guard, Heaven’s Prisoners, Under Suspicion, and Dirty Pretty Things; plus a pre-Bond Roger Moore in Swinging Sixties thriller Crossplot, and sci-fi noir The Man in Half Moon Street.

I’m also talking about stuff like Studiocanal’s epic Hitchcock: The Beginning box set. Streamers infamously have very few movies from The Past (often only a small handful from before 1980, if any), so who’s going to offer ten Hitchcocks from the 1920s and ’30s? Especially when almost half of them are silent. (Studiocanal do have their own channel on Amazon Prime, but that doesn’t really count.) The set includes both silent and talkie versions of Blackmail, newly restored in 4K, supplemented by the brand-new feature-length documentary Becoming Hitchcock: The Legacy of Blackmail. The set also contains UK HD debuts for The Ring, The Farmer’s Wife, Champagne, The Manxman, Juno and the Paycock (which was scarcely even available on DVD, if I remember correctly), Murder!, its German-language variant Mary, The Skin Game, Rich and Strange, and Number Seventeen; plus a wealth of special features — and you definitely don’t get those on streamers.

Okay, maybe the line gets a little blurrier elsewhere. Masters of Cinema recently released animation The Secret of NIMH, which is mainstream enough you might expect to find it streaming (though, currently, it’s not); but then they also released the Kinji Fukasaku-directed Japanese answer to Star Wars, Message from Space, and where else are you likely to find that but on disc? (Whether it’s worthy of being a Masters of Cinema release is another matter.) Of course, sometimes streamers will surprise you. Which one out of time-bending actioner Run Lola Run, East-meets-West Western Red Sun, and Ealing Comedy Kind Hearts and Coronets do you think is currently on a streamer? (It’s the Western.) You can rent the other two, but that’s not quite what I’m talking about. And I’ll add this: I got all of those on 4K UHD, and only one of them is streaming in that format. I may spend a disproportionate amount on physical media, but it’s still the best.

2022 | Weeks 1–3

Here we go — finally, and somewhat later than anticipated (it’s been a slow start to the year, viewing-wise) — the new review format for 2022!

…which you’ll have already seen in Archive 5, of course; and is fundamentally similar to what I was doing before in roundups and what-have-you; and which I’ve already ‘broken’, because my review of Flight of the Navigator came out so long that I posted it alone.

But still, the intention is this is now my regular review format, popping up every week or two (or three) to review everything in a more timely fashion than I have for many, many years. We’ll see how it goes — I feel like I need to relearn how to write short pieces, because longer reviews feel like they should get their own posts, and that’s happened to pieces intended for every one of these roundups so far this year.


Anyway — to kick things off for 2022, a film with a broadly appropriate title. Because, despite (deliberately misleading) hints to the contrary, I’m carrying on. Get it? Carrying on watching. And “spying” is a synonym of “watching”, right? (Look, there aren’t any Carry On films with more apposite titles, okay?)

These weeks’ films are…

  • Carry On Spying (1964)
  • Penny Serenade (1941)
  • The Navigator (1924)
  • In the Line of Fire (1993)
  • Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper (2004)
  • Free Guy (2021)


    Carry On Spying

    (1964)

    Gerald Thomas | 84 mins | digital (SD) | 16:9 | UK / English | U

    Carry On Spying

    Believe it or not, I’ve never actually seen a Carry On film before. Maybe that’s not so surprising these days. They were once such a part of British culture that they produced 30 of the things, but I think they were seen as “a bit old fashioned” even before I was born, and by 2022’s standards… oof. But, lest you get the wrong end of the stick (oo-er, etc), this isn’t me intending to finally dive into all of them. Rather, as well as its timely title, I chose to watch Carry On Spying primarily because it’s a James Bond spoof — the first, I believe, seeing as it was released in July 1964, when the Bond series only encompassed Dr. No and From Russia with Love (Goldfinger would follow a couple of months later).

    With Bond not yet even properly into its initial phenomenon phase (the first two films were hits, but it was the next two that skyrocketed its popularity), you might think Spying came too soon, and would be disadvantaged by being produced before the famous Bond formula was fully in place. Instead, it sets its spoofing sights a little wider, including an extended riff on The Third Man. I couldn’t tell you everything it’s drawing on, but its third-act villain’s lair — all sleek metal corridors and little road-train thingies and jump-suited identikit henchpeople — appears to be a take-off of You Only Live Twice, some three years before that film even came out. So I can only presume Spying’s point of reference there is something else, which I can’t quite remember; some other spy fiction that was already doing stuff the Bond franchise would still be pulling off years later. That doesn’t reflect too positively on YOLT, when you think of it, although Bond’s cultural dominance and longevity has come to ensure it’s the one that’s remembered for pioneering all this stuff.

    I don’t know how many Carry On films were genre spoofs, but the series’ reputation is more for smut and innuendo. There’s pleasantly little of that here — some, for sure, mostly based around Barbara Windsor (of course) as a trainee agent; but while it’s all fundamentally juvenile, it’s not as ceaselessly ribald as I was expecting. Satisfyingly, it remains primarily focused on its chosen genre. In that respect, I’ve definitely seen worse spoofs.

    3 out of 5

    Carry On Spying is the 1st film in my 100 Films in a Year Challenge 2022.


    Penny Serenade

    (1941)

    George Stevens | 120 mins | digital (HD) | 4:3 | USA / English | U

    Penny Serenade

    This is the third and final film to pair up stars Irene Dunne and Cary Grant as a married couple (I’ve watched all their collaborations within the past couple of years, but not posted reviews of the first two yet. I thought it was within the last year, but turns out I watched my first in May 2020. These strange days have really messed with my sense of the passage of time!) But where their first two films were screwball romcoms, this is undoubtedly a melodrama, following a couple as they meet, marry, and attempt to start a family.

    Dunne and Grant both make a fair fist of the serious stuff — Grant, in particular, gives an uncommonly sensitive performance at times — although they can’t resist slipping back into a spot of almost-slapstick given half a chance, with various individual sequences playing more like one of their comedies. Those scenes stand at odds with the film’s overall narrative and tone, which goes for full-on weepy. Indeed, if anything, I thought it was overdone, in particular an ending that throws in sudden tragedy followed so quickly by a pat happy ending that it feels almost distasteful.

    The film’s hook is that it begins with Dunne planning to leave, before she discovers a book of records that, as she plays them, take her back through their relationship. Different songs provoking specific memories is a neat narrative device on paper, but doesn’t really come across on screen. Aside from the first track, and maybe a later burst of Happy Birthday (although that could be almost any birthday, surely), the songs don’t seem to have any special relevance to the memories they supposedly call forth. It doesn’t help that, to modern ears, they all sound kinda samey. Plus, that the songs lead everything to unfurl in chronological order, with every major beat of their life story accounted for, is certainly convenient.

    If you can look past such artifice, and just want to revel in an old-fashioned bit of heart-tugging, Penny Serenade is fit to make you shed a tear. Personally, I’d rather the headline duo had given us another bout of screwball tomfoolery.

    3 out of 5

    Penny Serenade is the 3rd film in my 100 Films in a Year Challenge 2022.


    The Navigator

    (1924)

    Donald Crisp & Buster Keaton | 66 mins | Blu-ray | 1.33:1 | USA / silent | U

    The Navigator

    This is my fourth Buster Keaton feature now (I’ve only previously reviewed The General, but Sherlock Jr made it into my 2019 top 3), and he’s established himself as my favourite of the major silent comedians (I rarely enjoy Chaplin’s films as much as I feel I should; and, in fairness to Harold Lloyd, I’ve only seen one of his so far, which I liked a lot). The Navigator was the biggest hit of his career, though is probably my least favourite of his I’ve seen so far — though I don’t want to damn it with false criticism, because it’s still a brisk and entertaining comedy.

    Keaton stars as a spoiled rich kid whose marriage proposal is rejected. He’d already booked the honeymoon tickets, so sets off by himself; but, due to several points of confusion, he ends up adrift at sea on a decommissioned ship, empty but for one other passenger: his would-be fiancée (Kathryn McGuire). It’s up to this pair of brats to get along and survive while they hope for rescue. (Rescue does not come quickly. Considering McGuire’s father is a successful shipping magnate who’s aware of what’s happened, you’d think he’d send a vessel after them; but then, he might have his own problems, owing to a bunch of foreign spies who… look, it’s best not to overthink the logistics and plausibility of the plot.)

    Although Keaton gets the lion’s share of the gags, as well he might, for a stretch in the middle he and McGuire form an effective double act. The two rich kids being hilariously useless at household basics, like making coffee or opening a tin of food, is well observed; a flash-forward to their automated solutions is also fun. While Keaton still gets to show off by himself — particularly in an elaborate underwater diving sequence, naturally saved for the final act — McGuire makes the most of the material she’s given.

    The only outright demerit to the film is that the finale hasn’t aged particularly well: the ship finally drifts near land, but it’s an island with a village-full of black natives, at which McGuire immediately exclaims “cannibals!” That she’s sort of proven right when they start attacking the ship is… well, maybe not even worse, but at least just as bad. Still, by 1920s standards, maybe we can take comfort in the fact that it’s only casual racism…

    More than that, the reason I say it’s my least favourite Keaton so far is simply that it doesn’t have as many comedic highs as his very best work. Nonetheless, his genius regularly shines through in moments and even whole sequences, and there are a couple of individual gags that are all-timers.

    4 out of 5

    The Navigator is the 4th film in my 100 Films in a Year Challenge 2022.


    In the Line of Fire

    (1993)

    Wolfgang Petersen | 129 mins | digital (HD) | 2.39:1 | USA / English | 15 / R

    In the Line of Fire

    Clint Eastwood is a Secret Service agent who failed to stop the JFK assassination, now taunted by John Malkovich’s mysterious wannabe-assassin and his threats to kill the current President. It’s a fundamentally strong idea for a thriller, and works especially well by having the villain constantly phoning the hero for little chats. Malkovich’s always makes for a first-rate antagonist, and his slightly loony personality clashes well with Eastwood’s stoic, dry-witted, old-fashioned tough guy. There are a couple of chase scenes and shoot-outs here and there, but, rather than any elaborate physical action, it’s the verbal sparring that represents the film’s highlights.

    On the downside, the pace is a little on the slow side (perhaps matched to the “too old for this shit” age of Eastwood’s hero — in real life, he’d be a whole decade past the mandatory retirement age) and there are one too many clichés as important plot points (don’t get too attached to the partner who’s always talking about his wife and kids). Plus, there’s a wholly unnecessary romance between 62-year-old Clint and 39-year-old Rene Russo — the film doesn’t need it, even if there wasn’t that age gap. It leads to an (almost) sex scene that’s worthy of the Naked Gun films, which is amusing but tonally misplaced.

    They used to make this kind of political thriller on the regular back in the ’90s, one of those bread-and-butter genres for grownups that have fallen by the wayside in favour of hyper-budgeted kids’-movie spectacle that men of allegedly adult age flock to nowadays. In the Line of Fire may not truly stand out among its brethren of the era, but I do wish they still made ’em like this.

    4 out of 5

    In the Line of Fire is the 6th film in my 100 Films in a Year Challenge 2022.


    Barbie as
    The Princess and the Pauper

    (2004)

    William Lau | 85 mins | digital (SD) | 16:9 | USA & Canada / English | U

    Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper

    One of the many film lists I have my eye on completing is Letterboxd 100: Animation, which lists the highest-rated animated feature films on the site (with a few caveats). There are over 40 titles left that I’ve not seen, and I could’ve chosen to watch almost any of them… but I chose the Barbie one. Well, not the Barbie one, because there are actually two Barbie titles on the list. And that’s not some temporary fluke: they’ve been on there for quite a while now. This merited investigation.

    As you’ve no doubt gathered from the title, this particular Barbie film is a reimagining of Mark Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper. A fairytale-esque story, about a princess, done as a musical? Yep, this is very much a wannabe Disney, but without the production values of that major studio: the computer animation here looks more like a PS2 cutscene. But hiding beneath the cheap animation is a halfway decent musical fairytale. Take the second musical number, How Can I Refuse, for example: it’s every inch in the mould of a “Disney villain’s song”, but is better than some genuine examples, and comes complete with a dance routine by the antagonist and his two henchman. This film has ambition, I’ll give it that.

    Other songs vary in quality. When the eponymous duo first meet, there’s an unintentionally hilarious number in which they sing about how similar they are, the indentured servant and the pampered royal. If you say so, girls. A later track is a typical “you be you” song, but sung to a pet cat who behaves like a dog. That’s a level of barminess I can get on board with.

    I would never have dreamed of watching this if it weren’t on the Letterboxd animation list. Now, I wouldn’t exactly say I’m glad I watched it, but I enjoyed it more than I thought I would — even if sometimes that was due to laughing at it rather than with it.

    3 out of 5

    Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper is the 7th film in my 100 Films Challenge 2022.


    Free Guy

    (2021)

    Shawn Levy | 115 mins | digital (HD) | 2.39:1 | USA / English | 12 / PG-13

    Free Guy

    Ryan Reynolds plays his role again as Guy, a bank worker in city riddled with crime and superheroics. But, it turns out, Guy isn’t real — he’s an NPC in a computer game, programmed to do the same thing over and over and basically be ignored by the real-world players. Until, that is, he spots the woman of his dreams (Jodie Comer) and his programming breaks as Guy becomes self-aware.

    The basic concept sounds like a fun, fresh, and timely idea, right? Video games have never been more popular, AI is ever-improving, and there’s room for both gags and action in the core idea — that’s the winning Marvel formula, right there. Unfortunately, the execution is as if someone found a way to make a new movie by collaging others. Free Guy is just The LEGO Movie + The Truman Show + Wreck-It Ralph + Ready Player One + the PG-13 version of Deadpool 2 — not put in a blender, but cut up and stuck back together side-by-side, with snippets of Groundhog Day, Fortnite, and multiple Disney-owned properties scattered in for good measure.

    That last aspect, the Disney references, has been singled out for particular derision on social media. The film was initially produced by 20th Century Fox, but ended up a Disney title after the buyout, which allows a bunch of stuff they own to pop up in the movie. I know we’re supposed to find this infinitely depressing — a sad reminder that Disney are on course to own all culture, and that’s a bad thing — and it is bad, of course… but the bit with Captain America’s shield still made me laugh. Sorry, not sorry. Yeah, you can be miserable about this stuff, because obviously the total homogenisation of all American media under The Walt Disney Company is not worth that a couple of meta gags; but the homogenisation of all American media under The Walt Disney Company is happening anyway, so we may as well enjoy the gags we get along the way.

    Whether you have that kind of attitude or not will probably dictate how much you enjoy Free Guy. Its originality is surface deep, at best, and at every second it will call to mind some other film that already did the same thing. But, allowing for that, it’s still a fairly entertaining couple of hours of action-comedy.

    3 out of 5

    Free Guy is the 8th film in my 100 Films in a Year Challenge 2022.