Water Torture

The Plumber (Peter Weir, 1979)

Given the critical acclaim of Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) and The Last Wave (1977), it is surprising to learn that Peter Weir, the leading figure of the Australian New Wave, would still have to resort to writing and directing a TV movie to make some cash. Consequently, his fourth feature would eventually be granted a theatrical distribution in the international market.

The Plumber (1979) is a 77-minute feature film that very much resembles a teleplay thanks to primarily being set in a single location. It centres on class conflict and male toxicity, and showcases the hypocrisies of its two main characters. Above all, the film serves as a spiritual forerunner to The Cable Guy (1996).

Jill Cowper (Judy Morris) is a postgraduate anthropologist residing on the university campus with her scientist husband Brian (Robert Coleby). She spends her days at home working on her Master’s thesis while Brian teaches and conducts nutritional research. He is determined to gain the attention of the World Health Organisation for his theory of Kuru, a fatal neurodegenerative disorder caused by cannibalism, still being present among the tribes of Papua New Guinea. His obsession with this discovery occasionally leaves Jill feeling neglected and alone. An expensive watch for Jill, does little to compensate for her being home alone for the majority of the day.

Max (Ivar Kants) unexpectedly barges his way into Jill’s life as the university's plumber. However, his  invasive behaviour is a red flag; suggesting he could be a shady or dangerous individual. Jill finds herself feeling increasingly uneasy and threatened in her own home by the disruptive and overly friendly plumber. The annoying tradesman exhibits a complete lack of respect for her personal privacy. Max’s bizarre behaviour is evident from the outset as she suspects he may have taken a shower instead of doing any work. Hardly professional.

Max is quite vocal about his dislike for the social and intellectual higher-ups. He sees Jill as one of the elitists perched above the ivory tower of academia and class privilege. Thus, she is the recipient of his subtle, irritating comments and disapproving looks. On the other hand, Jill’s quiet exterior hides a woman who despises Max for his complete lack of sophistication; which is rather ironic, given her studies on primitive tribes.

The scenes between the two characters are remarkably awkward and sinister at times. Weir lets various details linger longer than necessary; achieving an uncomfortable atmosphere throughout the course of the film which feels intentionally exaggerated. Thus, The Plumber alternates between absurd comedy and psychological thriller territory. It’s bolstered by a choice selection of library tracks from the KPM vaults; notably the eerie Sea of Tranquility by Edgar Vetter and W. Merrick Farran, which really fits the bizarre tone of the film.

Weir’s inspiration for writing Max originated from a cab driver he met who resembled a long-haired John Lennon. It was during the Vietnam War, and the director was shocked to discover that his driver held abhorrent opinions on the conflict. The apparent contradiction of a peace-loving crusty of the flower power generation, revealed him to be an unapologetic fascist in a deceptive guise. This was how the plumber/wannabe folk-singer Max came to be. He wears a "Save the whale!" badge, but does he really mean it, or is it performative?

Additionally, the blue sticker on Max’s leather jacket that reads, “Liberal = Less Tax”, was a slogan by Australia’s conservative party, ironically known as The Liberal Party. Further contradictions are evident in Max’s rant to Jill when revealing he was once a burglar:

“Anyway, I only ever took from the rich. Bludgers living off the workers. Sucking the life blood of the country. Vampires. I’d tread on them if I could. Squash ‘em like snails. Wouldn’t give it another thought. That’s the way we saw it in Melbourne. We had principles. The crim scene in Adelaide’s just the opposite. Real capitalist.” — Max

Evidently, Max still acts like a burglar by entering Jill’s home via the hole in the bathroom ceiling when she tries avoiding him.

The most distressing aspect of Jill’s situation is the isolation she faces. Her concerns are not taken seriously by the supporting cast. Her friend Meg (Candy Raymond) appears to regard Max as a typical individual, while Brian is preoccupied with his work to notice anything. The gaslighting further exacerbates Jill’s mental health. 

Brian’s subplot concludes with a group of colleagues from the World Health Organisation being invited to the couple’s apartment for dinner. The menu features Jill’s speciality curry, which on this occasion, she’s accidentally made excessively hot. Keep in mind, their bathroom resembles an obstacle course, with scaffolding everywhere, and you have the makings for a classic comedy skit.

Although The Plumber may appear modest and limited in scope compared to Weir’s other films, it is an exceptionally entertaining and fascinating study of the classes. It achieves this in a relatively short runtime. That makes this a beaut, I reckon.

Currently, The Plumber is available to stream on both BFI Player and the Criterion Channel. It's also available as a bonus feature on Peter Weir's The Car That Ate Paris (1974), which was released recently on 4K UHD. Alternatively, there are old DVD copies about. 

Ben at Work

Man Bites Dog (Rémy Belvaux, André Bonzel & Benoît Poelvoorde, 1992)

From the country that has culturally enriched us with Jean-Claude Van Damme, the saxophone and mayonnaise on chips, Belgium’s dark comedy Man Bites Dog remains a significant work that has left a lasting impression upon the found footage format and the mockumentary film.

Originally called C’est arrivé près de chez vous (It Happened Near Your Home), Man Bites Dog is a disturbingly comedic treatment of a small film crew capturing a fly-on-the-wall documentary on serial killer Benoît Poelvoorde; better known as Ben. The film shines a satirical spotlight on Ben’s world; along with his heinous influence upon his documentarian entourage. As the film draws closer to Ben, the distinction between the subject matter and his observers becomes increasingly blurred. The film crew become complicit in the crimes; while Ben becomes even more involved in the documentary, by becoming its producer.

While chronicling Ben's crimes, the film also depicts the more tender side to him; showcasing his relationships with family and friends. Ben proves to be a charismatic individual with a penchant for the fine arts, philosophy and boxing. Like all murderous psychopaths, Ben feigns empathy, sympathy and respect for most people. In the film, it's used for comedic effect. While lamenting over his latest victim, he confesses to burying two Arabs nearby; facing Mecca.

Shot in 16mm black and white, Man Bites Dog mixes cinéma vérité with the snuff film. The film’s gritty and raw look compliments its theme perfectly. Plus, many of the actors use their real names, which adds to the film’s sense of realism. Scenes with Ben’s family are his actual family; unaware of the type of film they are starring in.

Following the murder of a female passenger on a train at the beginning, the film shifts to Ben preparing to dispose of a corpse into a canal. Ben’s candidness towards Rémy Belvaux’s film crew, where he shares his expertise in dead body disposal, establishes the film’s underlying tone and twisted sense of humour.

Benoît Poelvoorde: There’s a ballast ratio for corpses: Three times body weight
for an average adult like this victim. But for children and midgets, it's different. Kids are lighter. So, it's four times body weight. What?

Rémy Belvaux: Never had problems?                   

Benoît Poelvoorde: No. Midgets are heavier, so you double the weight. Midgets have denser bones, so you double the weight. For old people, multiply by five. Old bones are porous.

As well as murder being his living, Ben takes pride in the innovative methods he employs in extinguishing the very life of his victims. After being invited into an elderly woman’s apartment, he discovers a box of heart medication on her coffee table. He induces a heart attack by shouting in her ear. As she succumbs to shock, he derives satisfaction from not having to waste a bullet on “Granny Snuff”.

Ben places a greater priority on the elimination of the elderly population as they typically possess greater financial resources than younger individuals. But he doesn’t alway adhere to his code of murder. Ben commits a home invasion in a well-to-do suburb; killing a married couple and their young son. This was to prove to his accomplice film crew that he is capable of being amongst the most notorious serial killers in history.

The central theme of Man Bites Dog is the gradual complicity of a group of impoverished student filmmakers in killer Ben’s sickening crimes. Initially subtle, their involvement escalates from assisting with the disposal of a corpse, using their equipment to track a person, and ultimately, gang-raping a woman before mutilating her and her husband. This shocking turn of events turns this twisted comedy into a sobering depiction of evil. The film can be interpreted as a commentary on the media’s impact on society. It questions the point at which impartiality is abandoned and the extent to which the media is willing to compromise its principles given the circumstances. However, an archive interview with its directors suggests that Man Bites Dog is intended to be a meta-film on film making rather than media as a whole. The scene in which Ben and company encounter another film crew also following a killer is an obvious example, and down right hilarious. It is likely that this inspired a similar scene from Shaun of the Dead (2004).

Man Bites Dog is a remarkable mockumentary that bridges the gap between This Is Spinal Tap (1984) and The Blair Witch Project (1999); in terms of genres and technical execution. It stands out in the genre for its ability to elicit laughter while simultaneously evoking a sense of moral revulsion. This dual effect is a rare achievement, particularly for a film that appeals to a desensitised audience. Consequently, it is highly recommended for viewers who are not easily offended by its disturbing scenes.

Along with being available on a far too expensive Australian Blu-Ray, you can watch Man Bites Dog for free on YouTube.

Wave in Fright

The Surfer (Lorcan Finnegan, 2024 / 2025)

The redemption arc of the eccentric Nicolas Cage is one that will be discussed by film bros for many years. The Oscar winner and Hollywood A-lister fell from mainstream grace and spent years in straight-to-video hell, before emerging again an as an indie film hero. He had also become an internet icon, prior; thanks to comical videos and memes, putting him on similar pedestal to Chuck Norris and Keanu Reeves. And so, Cage essentially cashed-in on his unhinged performances, leading to a late career renaissance and garnering critical acclaim with the films Mandy (2018) and Pig (2021). His latest endeavour, the psychological thriller The Surfer (2024 / 2025), is another notable manic performance in his illustrious career.

Set in the fictional locale known as Luna Bay in Western Australia, our protagonist makes his entrance driving his son to a house he's eager to buy. This residential property has personal significance to Cage's character, as it was his former childhood home. It's eventually revealed why he ended up in California; hence the lack of an Aussie accent. The Surfer is eager to buy it. Like all midlife crises, looking to rekindle the good times of his past; including his love of surfing. Being a Nicolas Cage film, nothing is ever that easy. It's not long before he's facing the prospect of being gazumped over his childhood home. To make matters worse, the territorial bogans won't allow non-locals to catch the waves. "Don't live here; don't surf here". 

One would assume, given The Surfer's premise and Cage playing the action hero in the past, it would be heading into familiar territory; it doesn't. Instead, director Lorcan Finnegan opts for a surreal endurance, that's somewhere in between the fractured mental state of The Swimmer (1968) and the daylight horror of the Aussie nightmare Wake in Fright (1971). Furthermore, Cage spends much of the film trapped in a car park like a fly in a web. Finnegan absolutely relishes putting Cage through a gamut of suffering to it coming across as sadistic. Observing Cage gradually degrade to the point of having to rummage through bins for food, and drinking water from puddles littered with cigarette butts, is both tragic and farcical.

Yet, despite some heavy themes, The Surfer does not to really dwell into really psychological horror territory like those other films. It's first and foremost a vehicle accommodating Cage's comfort zone in going doolally. Therefore, Finnegan's film is equally an alternative comedy as it is a psychological thriller, in many respects.

Before long, Cage's dreams begin to shatter in a series of anxiety driven scenarios. A vagrant, credited in the film as the Bum (Nic Cassim), living in a broken down car, shares many ambiguous similarities with Cage's Surfer. The Bum warns our eponymous character that the leader of the local surf thugs is the one responsible for the death of his son, along with killing his dog, too. 

Scally (Julian McMahon), a men's surf guru, serves as the film's antagonist. Dressed in a hooded, red towel robe and sporting and a constant devilish smile, Scally puts the Surfer through the absolute ringer; where his entire world begins to collapse. It reaches the point where he even doubts his very existence given the grand conspiratorial scheme that seems to be against him. Even nature itself plays a part in crapping on the titular hero, as a parrakeet literally shit on him, along with a run-in he has with a rat; evoking the Australian ecological horror Long Weekend (1978).

The Surfer's biggest highlight is Cage charging to the beach wielding a "LOCALS ONLY" sign post as a weapon and confronting Pitbull (Alexander Bertrand), one of Scally's bully disciples. The fight results in Cage ramming a dead rat into the bully's mouth. "You eat it! Eat the rat!", the most quotable line in the entire film.

A difficult film to pin down. I enjoyed this a great deal, but it's definitely not for everyone; even I can admit to that. A very close friend of mine, who had seen it prior to me, absolutely hated it and warned me about it. Curiosity obviously got the better of me, and I was far more positive about it than him, as I found it a far more rewarding experience than many of the other films that have been released this year. Therefore, I can absolutely see The Surfer being considered a Marmite film. Personally, this is Cage's most entertaining film since Mandy, so make of that what you will.

Gesundheit!

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (Joseph Sargent, 1974)

Always found films more educational than the what was taught to me at school. John Sargent's cult classic crime thriller The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974), managed to teach me more about geography, history and sociology via the warm and comforting glow my parent's TV screen rather than any grotty school classroom. The film perfectly encapsulated my favourite era in American cinema, along with what's arguably its most photogenic city — New York City of the 1970s. The Taking of Pelham One Two Three would lovingly depict New Yorkers as direct, opinionated and completely sarcastic. These traits would perfectly compliment the the gritty, run down backdrops of the city at that time. Thus, to an outsider like myself, the urban grime of the Big Apple and its inhabitants, would come across as both extreme and fascinating to a young'un. Therefore, it's even more magical when a film like The Taking of Pelham One Two Three achieves a tensely kinetic crime caper, whilst simultaneously satirising and glorifying the fine city's inhabitants.

Adapted from John Godey's (a pseudonym of the author Morgan Freedgood) 1973 novel, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three revolves around the hijacking of a NYC subway train by four armed men wearing disguises. Using colour themed aliases that Quentin Tarantino would obviously be inspired by in Reservoir Dogs (1992), Mr. Blue (Robert Shaw), Mr. Green (Martin Balsam), Mr. Brown (Earl Hindman) and Mr. Grey (Hector Elizondo), take control of the Pelham 1-2-3 train, including its seventeen passengers and conductor as their hostages. Their demand is a one million dollar ransom within the hour, otherwise a hostage will be executed after every late minute. Thus, the respective authorities have little time to react, resolve and end this alarming situation.

Perhaps the most novel aspect about the film is its unlikely protagonist. We're introduced to New York City Transit Police Lieutenant Zachary Garber (Walter Matthau) sleeping on the job. He's immediately woken up from his slumber and tasked with being the tour guide for a group of Japanese transit envoys. It's not long until he's put through the ringer as the hostage negotiator. The casting in The Taking of Pelham One Two Three might be one of the most perfect selections to represent the grime-ridden and stagnant state of '70s NYC; practically everyone in it looks middle-aged, out of shape, poorly dressed and absolutely miserable, with the craggy Matthau being the pièce de résistance. His world-weary and sullen mug is complimented with one of the most horrendous fashion choices to grace a man, donning an awful chequered shirt and a bright yellow kipper tie beneath a school teacher blazer. And yet, he manages to shine as the negotiator during the hijacking, whilst also liaising with the police authorities and his cynical colleagues, all in a horrendously vomit coloured command centre. For much of the film, Matthau is stationed in one single location, and yet, his performance is so kinetic that it lends incredibly to all the film's fast and tense pacing.

Cutting through this vivid depiction of New York City and its cynical populace is our main antagonist, Robert Shaw's Mr. Blue. Shaw plays the part with his natural English accent, which makes him an obvious standout in the film. Mr. Blue is a complete professional. We learn he comes from a military background and was once a mercenary. A ruthless perfectionist, who has no qualms over shooting any of his hostages. However, there is a human side to this character which provides plenty of depth to him. His rapport with Martin Balsam's Mr. Green is friendly and warm; the complete opposite when dealing with Hector Elizondo's irksome hothead Mr. Grey. His intercom conversations with Garber are what really make the film shine. They're what make tensions even more palpable and occasionally leading to some cathartic jokes which lighten the mood.

Garber's intercom conversations with Mr. Blue will ultimately be the undoing of Balsam's Mr. Green, as he's riddled with a cold and very often sneezing in the background. Garber's "Gesundheit!" being the film's last word when he's eventually banged to rights.

Peter Stone's screenplay is razor sharp in its satire. The ludicrous audacity of a subway train being taken hostage is greeted with complete disbelief from all the authorities. Correll (Dick O'Neill), a transit supervisor and a complete thorn at Garber's side during the hostage negotiations, hilariously exclaims, "Screw the God damn passengers! What the hell did they expect for their lousy thirty-five cents; to live forever?"effectively summing up much of the film's cynical tone. An underrated highlight is the political exchange between the flu-ridden mayor and his deputy whilst they're debating over paying the ransom:

Deputy Mayor Warren LaSalle: You know what they're going to say. The Times is going to support you. The News is going to knock you. The Post will take both sides at the same time. The rich will support you, likewise the blacks, and the Puerto Ricans won't give a shit. So come on, Al, quit stalling!

 
Mayor: Will you stop bullying everybody, Warren? This is supposed to be a democracy!

 
Deputy Mayor Warren LaSalle: Wise up, for Christ's sake, we're trying to run a city, not a God damn democracy! Al, quit farting around; we've got to pay! 

The humour isn't just restricted to satire and cynicism, either. One of the hostages, a drunk woman, simply credited as 'The Drunk' completely sleeps throughout her entire ordeal. Mr. Blue declaring she'd be less of a bother while passed out. Amongst the other hostages is an undercover cop dressed as a hippie. His identity is not revealed until a gunfire shoot out whilst the criminals prepare to get away. Garber coming to the injured cop's aid with the hilarious, "We'll have an ambulance here in no time, miss. Everything's gonna be okay!". 

The final major highlight is unreservedly David Shire's bombastic score for The Taking of Pelham One Two Three. If ever a theme perfectly encompassed the urban grittiness of '70s New York City, it's his bone shaking drums and guttural horns which appear throughout as the leitmotif for the film's score. Ironically, the soundtrack was recorded in Los Angeles, I recently discovered in a bonus feature from the film's 4K UHD release. Other noteworthy tracks are the sample worthy Mini-Manhunt and the uptempo Money Montage which both vividly compliment key scenes from the film.

David Shire | Main Title

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three | Soundtrack | 1974 

Yet to see Joseph Sargent's 1983 horror anthology, Nightmares (how many horror flicks out there with that same title?), but The Taking of Pelham One Two Three is objectively better than the other three movies of his that I have seen; namely the sci-fi thriller The Forbin Project (1971), the biopic MacArthur (1977) and the dreadful Jaws: The Revenge (1987). In terms of New York's finest, it's right up there with the likes of Death Wish (1974) and Taxi Driver (1976) with its beautifully ugly aesthetic of a bygone era. More impotantly, The Taking of Pelham One Two Three truly represents NYC's multiethnic melting pot by unifying everyone in their cynicism and nihilism in having to live in such a broken and dilapidated city. As such, it's why the comedy works so perfectly in the midsts of being confined to a crime caper. It's also why a sour-faced Walter Mattheau thrives as the unlikely protagonist, and it's why I find myself rooting for Mr. Green as an underdog getting back at the system.

The film spawned two remakes: one a 1998 TV movie; the other, Tony Scott's 2009 film starring Denzel Washington and John Travolta. Sargent's original is unquestionably far superior than those films. Furthermore, it's one of cinema's greatest heist movies.

Ani, Are You OK?

Anora (Sean Baker, 2024)

Despite all of its acclaim, Sean Baker's debut film Tangerine (2015) was a disappointmet to me. It was enough to put me off checking out his subsequent films. That was until Anora (2024) came along this year. The change of heart wasn't brought upon by it winning the coveted Palme d'Or this year (who honestly gives a f**k?), nor was it because Baker proved to be a one of us with his visit to the Severin cellar; instead it was largely due to Mickey Madison getting naked in it. Therefore, imagine my surprise when Anora turned out to be a legitimately great film and far more accessible than his debut. 

Anora's premise is essentially a crash and burn Cinderella story, where Mickey Madison's titular character, largely addressed as Ani in the film, is a spirited New York sex worker of Russian descent, who meets her Prince Charming in the form of the son of a wealthy Russian oligarch, Ivan (Mark Eidelstein), nicknamed Vanya. Her beauty and his money equates to the pair hitting it off and banging like bunnies. The whirlwind romance eventually leads to them getting hitched in a Las Vegas chapel. Classy! This in turn leads to Vanya's parents and handlers enforcing their powers over the newly weds.

Structurally, Anora's three acts represent a fantasy romance soured by reality. The first gear change is when Anora is forced to help the oligarch's Armenian goons in tracking down her absconded husband. It's at this point where we're introduced to Igor (Yuriy Borisov), the young Russian heavy, who might be the purest soul in saga. The third act represents Anora coming to terms with what she knew all along about her spoilt man child of a partner, along with the eventual face-off with her domineering, plastic surgery nightmare of a mother-in-law; essentially the film's matriarchal villain. The ordeal is bitter for our young protagonist. Anora is a film where you can predictably guess the final destination, but the journey there is what makes the whole experience so mesmerising.

Mikey Madison's performance is incredible. She paints her character with a battle hardened veneer, but there's a hidden side which fleetingly betrays her fragility within. It's often juxtaposed with her being so sexually confident and carefree on the outside, but there are moments of tenderness and weakness when she's alone on the screen. Which ultimately leads to the film's unforgettable conclusion. Borisov also manages to subvert by initially coming across as the typical Russian heavy you might witness in STV tier actioners, and yet, he is the most sympathetic to Anora's plight. Also, Karren Karagulian's Armenian goon Toros is a major source to much of Anora's second act coming across as a screwball comedy. This is a complete contrast to the more serious nature of the film's plot at that point.

Both wildly funny and tragic at times, Anora's kinetic energy and palpable atmosphere contribute to a fresh paced and deeply engrossing film that make its long arse run time (around two hours and twenty minutes) whizz by. Vanya's super-rich lifestyle and the eventual comedown is reminiscent to the outlier worlds of Martin Scorsese's questionable protagonists; another element to the film's draw. This is all cohesively gelled together via Mickey Madison's outstanding performance; undoubtedly one of the best this year. It's also the only film (out of three appearances) where Madison isn't set on fire.

Glad I gave Sean Baker another chance as Anora proved it wasn't the dreaded tart-with-a-heart rom-com, à la Pretty Woman (1990) that I expected. What I got was essentially a crushing take on the pursuit of the American Dream and those who fall victim to it. Remarkably, Anora also happens to be an unexpectedly entertaining comedy, so think of that what you will. 

A genuinely great film, and probably the final high note of 2024.

Native Tongues

Kneecap (Rich Peppiatt, 2024)

Despite being drawn to the trailer and a handful of preview clips, my enthusiasm over Kneecap (2024) hit the backburner once early reviews were comparing it to Danny Boyle's Trainspotting (1996); a film which really made me feel I was in Bizarro World after all the unworthy praise it received. Thankfully, Frankie McNamara, the most entertaining culture critic from the Emerald Isle since Tom Paulin, gave the film his glowing approval. This was the impetus I needed to get off my arse and check it out.

Set in Belfast, Northern Ireland, this raucous comedy/docu-drama is essentially a semi-fictional origin story of the rap group Kneecap. Introduced as two young lads up for the crack, Mo Chara and Móglaí Bap are ceasefire babies - the common description of the generation grown up during Northern Ireland's more recent and peaceful period. The duo have been inseparable tearaways since they were wee weans putting weed in the Catholic priest's censor. In young adulthood, they are lairy and shell-suited street kids.

When the pair aren't dealing or partaking in various narcotics, they're making rap music in their indigenous language. Their insistence to rap in Irish serves two reasons: the preservation of their mother tongue and an act of defiance to the Northern Irish authoritarians. A noble cause which is shared with school music teacher JJ Ó Dochartaigh, who, after being summoned by the local police to serve as a translator, winds up becoming the third drug-binging member of Kneecap. Thus, donning his trademark tricolour balaclava as DJ Próvai.

At this point, I'm compelled to reveal my complete ignorance of Irish Rap; save for the confession that I copped the CD single Ship Ahoy back in the day by commie Hip-Hop group Marxman (in hindsight, the band’s name and their debut album cover were glaringly obvious). It were the love of Irish flutes and Sinead O' Connor's angelic singing on the chorus, Your Honour. They alone had me overlooking the painful, vowel-chewing rhymes of these rappers, and the rest of their horrid music. Really regret not climbing over the greased metal railings back in 1990 when myself and a bunch of mates snuck into Highgate Cemetery. If it weren't for the graveyard scene in The Omen (1976) being burned in my brain, where Gregory Peck caught his sleeve on an iron spike while a pack of rabid rottweilers were gnashing at his legs, I could have climbed over and pissed on Comrade Karl's grave and avenge the millions who perished from his ideology.

 

Back to the film. Kneecap is something of a gem on account of not dwelling on its subplots longer than necessary, which keeps the film moving at a breezy and entertaining pace. This is perhaps one of its greatest strengths. It's both satirical and slapstick; able to mock what some might consider sensitive issues, whilst also indulging in juvenile humour - especially when it pertains to drug consumption. A prime example is when the band mistakenly consume ketamine before a gig and Móglaí Bap's face turns into Sinn Féin's Gerry Adams. The anarchic group are caught in the crossfires of both the Belfast Police and the fictional paramilitary organisation known as the R.R.A.D (Radical Republicans Against Drugs), which leads to hilarious shots at both sides.

The supporting cast are particularly strong. The film's most recognisable star is undoubtedly Michael Fassbender as Móglaí's estranged father, Arló Ó Cairealláin; a paramilitary who faked his own death to avoid capture. Amazingly, Fassbender managed to carry the swagger of a bad ass, despite his scraggly ginger beard and wearing a pair of sandals. The gag Bobby Sandals was not lost on me. The affect of him being in hiding for so many years has had adverse affects on his family. His wife, Dolores (Simone Kirby), has become an agoraphobic and is literally a prisoner in her own home. Jessica Reynolds plays Mo Chara's love interest Georgia, a Protestant girl whose dirty talk during sex is both hilarious and messed up. She could pass for Annabelle Wallis's younger, brunette sister. Can definitely see her as a star in more mainstream films in the foreseeable future.

A huge shame the band's music isn't my cup of tea, however. For a bunch of rowdy rap lads with such immense energy, I kind of cringed to their EDM beats and awkward rapping. Obviously, their music is meant for less discerning broccoli-haired zoomers than an old git like myself, but it does set an obvious barrier. I suppose the concert performance scenes in front of a jam packed and completely rocking audience might be akin to Public Enemy's legendary Hammersmith gig to young 'uns, but the quality of their music is nowhere near in the same universe to a boom bap dinosaur, sadly. This is the one real drawback of the film. Kneecap isn't a band whose music I like enough to buy. Kneecap is a film I like enough to cop on blu-ray, however.

It might offend some for its colourful language and heavy drug use, but Kneecap contains plenty of boisterous energy and smart social satire that you can't help being won over by it. Much like Baz Luhrmann's Elvis (2022), Kneecap is another musical biopic which kept me entertained throughout its run time.

Highly recommended.

Bottom >>>> Bottoms

Guest House Paradiso (Adrian Edmondson, 1999)

To the uninitiated, Adrian Edmondson and the late Rik Mayall were two of British alternative comedy's shining stars from the eighties and nineties. Along with their comedic talents exhibited in the classic sitcom The Young Ones (1982), they were core members of the collective known as The Comic Strip. The pair really shone as a couple of crude and juvenile lowlife flatmates in the sitcom Bottom (1991-1995). 

Guest House Paradiso (1999) features Bottom's comedic duo; albeit with minor changes to their surnames: Rik Mayall's Richard "Richie" Richard is renamed to Richard "Richie" Twat, while Adrian Edmondson's Edward "Eddie" Elizabeth Hitler becomes Edward "Eddie" Elizabeth Ndingombaba. The changes are never explained. However, other than this change, both characters' are indistinguishable from their TV counterparts. Thus, the spirit of Bottom is more than evident during the very opening scenes. Guest House Paradiso would be Mayall's second feature film role after his transatlantic outing in Drop Dead Fred (1991) - embarrassingly not seen it. Edmondson makes his film debut in this film and not make an appearance again until his bit part in the franchise killer Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017).

Guest House Paradiso is loud, crude and unapologetically juvenile. Witnessing Eddie and Richie administering Looney Toons level of violence to one another is like watching Laurel and Hardy ramped up to eleven. The film isn't only reliant on its cartoonish violence, it also possesses some truly idiotic dialogue, like the Richie having to repeat 'it's pronounced "Thwaite"' whenever trying to correct anyone from saying his surname as Twat. Much like Hyacinth Bucket has to endure. The styles of humour don't just end there, as the film as the film doesn't shy from Mayall acting like a sexually depraved individual, along with gross out vomit comedy in the film's final act. Very much in the spirit of Peter Jackson's early films.

Simply put, the premise of the film is essentially Fawlty Towers (1975) with Eddie and Richie running the worst hotel in Great Britain. It's built on top of cliff and adjacent to the phallic looking nuclear power plant. It's a miracle the pair even manage to retain any staff, like their Romanian chef Lardy Barsto (Steve O'Donnell), let alone any paying guests due to their obnoxious behaviour. A subplot involving famous, Italian actress Gina Carbonara (Hélène Mahieu) jilting her playboy, racing driver fiancee, Gino Bolognese (a fish out of water Vincent Cassel) on the day of their wedding and hiding out in the grotty establishment adds a welcome layer to the film. The G.O.A.T comedy Carry On Screaming's Fenella Fielding plays the senile guest Mrs. Foxfur, while Simon Pegg makes his film debut as the timid, but closeted pervert, Mr. Nice. An unforgettably cringeworthy scene involves him being hoisted with a fishing rod whilst asleep via his nipple ring. Two other cast members from Shaun of the Dead (2004), Bill Nighy and Kate Ashfield, play an adulterous couple whose romantic getaway is ruined at the hotel.

Written by both Edmondson and Mayall, the idea came to them whilst in various hotels during Bottom's live tour. The pair had written three and half-hours worth of comedy material for their first treatment. A revision of it had shaved it down to two and half hours, which was still too lengthy. Mayall had just recovered from a coma due to a quad bike accident in 1998. During this period, he had urged Edmondson to go it alone with a further rewrite to a more acceptable run time during his recuperation. With a final script completed, the producers of the film got Edmondson to direct the film. The result is an unapologetic gross out comedy and a surprisingly stylish one, too.

Worth praising Guest House Paradiso's art direction as its sixties pastiche give it a vintage Ealing Studios vibe. The production sets look suitably old and grotty. The hotel itself, is very much a major highlight as it's reminiscent of Man and Woman's dwelling in Wes Craven's The People Under the Stairs (1991). The secret passageways within the walls and various crawl spaces of the hotel, are what spark this comparison. As a matter of fact, Guest House Paradiso, could have very easily been a horror film given all the various elements mentioned.

Guest House Paradiso was released in 1999 with little fanfare. It was largely panned by the critics; Poncey Pete over at The Guardian likened it to "a Jim Davidson 'adult pantomine'". Fast forward several decades, and he's positively gleaming over the played out goofiness of last year's nauseatingly overblown Bottoms (2023). The comedy might not be a classic, but it absolutely stomps Emma Seligman's boring writing that qualifies as zoomer humour. Similarly, an Empire critic no one knows was turned off by the film for being too puerile, despite being aware of its creators' comedic style and the source material. Worst of all, are the legions of wannabe Roger Eberts on Letterboxd offended over its irreverent humour. When mankind turns its nose at comedy at its most honest and base level, then the human race is definitely doomed.

Surprised by Guest House Paradiso receiving the boutique blu-ray treatment when it's usually focused on the serious cinephile and genre ends of the spectrum, but it makes absolute sense after seeing it. The slapstick comedy and gross out scenes are written and performed by absolute legends of the British comedy industry, not to mention it being far more deserving of some high definition love and fancy packaging than the average Troma film and long forgotten straight-to-video comedy for trash movie aficionados with money to burn. Like Kolobos and Freeway II: Confessions of a Trick Baby, Guest House Paradiso is another film from 1999 being discovered decades later that's turned out to be an unexpected gem. 

Rick Mayall passed away from a heart attack in 2014. Tragic how he was far more talented and deserving of success across the pond compared to insufferable comedians Ricky Gervais and Russell Brand. 

R.I.P Rick Mayall.