Legends: Old Kings

 "We can't afford false moustaches. But you can lend us a couple if you like."

The penultimate episode and, in a deliberately jarring jolt, Hakan announces to the whole alliance- Turk and Scouser, both Guy and Eddie included- that the Istanbul connection is gone and there's only one thing for it- go to Karachi and deal with the opium suppliers direct. The episode thus begins as it ends, with Customs struggling for some semblance of control as events speed up around them.

Yes, permission is given to go ahead with a potential two tonne drug bust, but Customs are  outmaneouvred not only by Hakan but also the Secret Service, all-knowing, omnipotent and absolutely nothing like the James Bond films, thank the Lord.

We get some good character scenes, though. Don and Bailey. Bailey and Eddie. Eddie realising what Guy is, and keeping quiet. Bailey versus Guy. And Kate connecting with Erin, who is dealing with how "London can be a confusing place when you're poor, but sound like you're rich."

Once we reach Karachi, though, things veer out of control as we're introduced to real life drug lord Afridi, and to the Khyber Pass with the Cure's "A Forest" as the perfect soundtrack.. and this truly is a different world, with both gangs in the clutches of a ruthless man with absolute power who, naturally, has a man casually killed in front of them, just to make a point, yet also discoursing in a learned way on the solid history of the Silk Road. Not only the Scousers but also the Turks (well, Kurds) are out of their depths... until things are salvaged at the last moment by Mylonas' wife, a not-so-real Afghan princess.

Kate gets some nice scenes, too, as she chases and catches the Liverpool copper who's working with Carter through sheer brass and cleverness. But we end, with only one episode to go, with Guy's physical safety hanging by a thread as the boat leaves. Legends has been bloody good throughout, but this instalment takes things up yet another notch. Excellent stuff.

Legends: The War on Drugs

 "It's because of what happened to me that I know it hasn't happened to them."

For Guy, Kate and Bailey the stakes of the deadly game are getting higher and higher, with lots of guns, tension, and character moments, from the O'Connells being sprung from a prison van at the beginning to the shocking bloodshed at the end. And, this time, at the centre of it all is drug kingpin Carter, a man whose greed, ambition and need for control leads to horrific levels of violence, death... and, it's strongly hinted at, hubris. 

There's more, though. Thatcher is under threat by the men in the grey suits, Hezza is on the march, it's the Tory conference... and the safety of all three of our protagonists is potentially put at risk for the sake of party politics. Don is there to discuss with others (and us) the psychological well-being of Guy, Kate and Bailey... and he should know. Steve Coogan is, as ever, extraordinary.

Bailey slowly gains the trust of Eddie, who in turn, unsurprisingly, is losing faith in the volatile Carter. There is drama between different Turkish factions. And for Guy, in particular, life feels dangerous and precarious. And the legend is changing him, causing him to threaten his daughter's piano teacher. 

There's a lot going on, and it's all gripping stuff. And yet, with all good telly, character is at the heart of it all. 

Legends: This Is Liverpool

 "That's called importing drugs. It's sort of the opposite of what we do."

Things get even more dramatic and dangerous this week for our underpaid Customs officers working on a shoestring and risking our lives, showing the real costs. Yet we also see why they're doing it. A young Tommy, ironically the son of one of the kingpins himself, finds himself hooked on heroin through a perfectly ordinary and natural set of circumstances, and we slowly see his decline and death. it's harrowing, and it happens to the very father who... orchestrates the shocking ending.

Guy is getting deeper and deeper into his "legend"... and thereby connecting well with Don, who well knows the appeal and the costs. And he's under pressure to show what he can do by actually importing large quantities of heroin which, well, he can't do. But, in a delightful sequence, Don solves the problem in arranging a deliberately botched raid by armed police in Felixtowe. I also love the sequence in which he desperately gets some customs officers to back off. Steve Coogan absolutely steals every scene he's in.

Kate and Bailey also have some excitement, getting locked in while sneaking around but getting away with it through sheer desperate cleverness. But the moment of sheer drama is Shaun's cover being blown, and he and his family subsequently escaping a fiery death by the skin of their teeth. It's utterly gripping, and really sells the risks of undercover work... yet, earlier in the episode, Shaun confesses just how much he's loving it.

Still utterly gripping, even if much of the episode is necessarily setting things up. 

Legends: Alliance

 "You're allowed to enjoy it, Guy."

As per the quote... Guy's wife knows him well. He needs the excitement, the risk, all of it. And, as we hear more of Mylonas's background this episode, perhaps the two of them are more similar than either would admit- both adrenaline junkies.

Turning to Kate and Bailey, we have quite the contrast. Kate is game to take risks, Bailey more cautious, causing tension... until an everyday instance of police racism makes Kate realise what Bailey has to live with, and why he has to be cautious. Meanwhile we meet Scouser Shaun, another bored VAT man, who is sent straight undercover, all because he cares deeply about his local community.

And so our protagonists are nicely developed as characters as we explore the world into which they've been dropped, a world of constant risk, calculation, adrenaline, with occasional betrayal and murder, with twists and turns that lead Kate and Bailey to witness the forging of a new alliance between Hakan's Turks and Carter's Scousers. It's all superbly sculpted plot-wise, yet it really gets us to know the protagonists.

Even more worrying, one of the Turks seems to suspect Guy, and a white van is watching his wife and daughter at their house. The levels of risk are off the charts... but this is Customs, far wilder and riskier than the police or the spooks. This is simply gripping stuff. The drug smuggling montage at the start alone is magnificent television.

I'm loving this. 

Legends: Could You Offer More?

 "Lunch money? What are you, twelve?"

1990. It was a very different time, the early years of rave culture, and Thatcher (just!) hanging on. But it was also a time of massively increasing availability of heroin. And so we have the hard-hitting opening, with two young people, from very different class backgrounds but both with their lives ahead of them, have those very lives snuffed out.

There is, of course, a lot of cynicism in how the government of the day reacted- Alex Jennings has an excellent cameo as rightly forgotten Home Secretary David Waddington driving home this very point. Thatcher, at a low ebb, needed a success. But there's no doubting the moral urgency of snuffing out the heroin trade.

The way this is to be done, however, is on a shoestring. Ordinary civil servants from Her Majesty's Customs and Excise are to go undercover, with only a little training, no extra resources and no extra pay... which is, wow. And so we have our triumvirate who have what it takes- Bailey the VAT man (yay, he says cryptically!); Kate the vice officer, and Guy from Customs- a real person who wrote the book on which all this is based. They are the only three who make it through the rigorous selection process, which is enormous fun to behold.

It's a joy, as ever, to experience the sheer charisma of Steve Coogan as Don Clarke, the world-weary yet wise man in charge, the person who anchors all this. And, soon, we see our brave trio into action, and very real danger.

This is going to be fun. Loving the character of Mylonas...

A Cock and Bull Story (2005)

 "Poke your little pecker out the window..."

I've actually read (and indeed blogged) The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, which on balance added to my enjoyment of this very funny film. And yet one might just as well see this as a precursor to The Trip, and the partnership of Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon.

Of course, the whole thing is quite postmodern, alternating scenres of Tristram Shandy, that famiusly unfilmable novel, with a behind the scenes narrative where Brydon and, especially, Coogan, play versions of themselves, rather effectively.

The joke throughout, of course, is that Coogan himself hasn't read the novel, and everyone else has. Through all the buddy buddy stuff with Coogan, the jokes about his sexual difficulties following the birth of the baby and his habits of infidelity nonetheless, it's really all about the fourth wall.

Stephen Fry's academic cameo puts it best: the novel probably shouldn't be seen as postmodern, an anachronistic term. There's nothing modern about textual self-referentialism- see Rabelais and Cervantes- but it becomes rather less fasionable after Lawrence Sterne. By 2005, it's back, and can be commingled with actual postmodernism. Hence this film, and its almost obvious playfulness with the fourth wall, where Coogan's sexual wakwardness echoes Walter Shandy's. Yet Coogan's life is like the Shany of the novel; too complex, real and nuanced to accurately be summed up by any narrative or work of art.

This film isn't as deep as I've made it sound. But it's funny.

The Professor and the Madman (2019)

"When I read, no one is after me."

This is, while not entirely without verging into sentiment at times, an extraordinary film. The real life events it depicts are themselves extraordinary, of course: Dr James Murray, editor of the Oxford English Dictionary, strikes up an extraordinary friendship with Dr William Minor- surgeon, veteran of the Union Army, erudite gentleman, paranoid schizophrenic and murderer- as Minor makes an enormous scholarly contribution.

Those facts alone are remarkable, and remain so in fictionalised form. But the film has more to it than that- the snobbery endured by Murray, of humble origins in the Scottish Borders; the tension between being with one's family and working to provide for them; the treatment of personality disorders; love; justice; friendship. Most of all it deals with the huge theme of redemption, with a sensitively written  and performed subplot in which the widow of the murdered man slowly comes to forgive and indeed love Minor.

The emotional depths, which are profound although excessively sentimental at times, are helped by a nicely structured script and outstanding performances from Sean Penn and Natalie Dormer, That wanker Laurence Fox is sadly in it but, happily, he plays a very hissable baddie.

This is well worth watching and, without a doubt, the finest film featuring a man cutting off his own penis I have ever seen.

Despicable Me 3 (2017)

"Oh, it is on like Donkey Kong!"

So we have another Despicable Me sequel and... yeah, this is one too many, isn't it, really? Don't get me wrong; the film isn't bad. But we're really getting to the point now where things are starting to feel a bit repetitive.

That said, I enjoyed it, even if I wasn't necessarily blown away. The characters are intrinsically funny, and the actors are all good, with Kristen Wiig in particular being outstanding. Bratt is an amusing villain, with his extreme eightiesness extending to a hairstyle which involves both mullet and spiky hair, constant use of Rubiks' cubes and bubble gum everywhere. Also, it's amusing to see Gru's twin brother, and the three girls are cute. But, well, the film comes in at less than 90 minutes and I think there's a reason for that.

Still, there is cool stuff, much of it revolving around Eighties references: "I love it when a plan comes together", indeed. "Monsieur Pompo" is a nice little dig at Trump. We get Minions, in prison, ruling the roost and being well 'ard. It's just that an awful lot of the character sub-plots (such as Margo's accidental "engagement") don't really go anywhere and it just feels as though the script could do with a couple of more drafts. Having said that, the film is worth seeing if you liked the others. Please, though, let us not have any more.

Minions (2015)

"Gentlemen do not steal ladies' crowns!"

This is yet another instalment of Minion fun; by no means one of the greatest comedy films of all time but a thoroughly entertaining romp with a first class '60s rock soundtrack. It's 1968, and the pre-Gru and tragically bossless Minions seek to become the underlings of the splendidly supervillainous Scarlet Underkill (Sandra Bullock in a rare appearance in a film that isn't rubbish).

I love the gentle mockery of us Brits as unflappable and always reaching for a cup of tea in a crisis (I certainly do so, in a crisis and at all other times), however much I somehow doubt the constitutional validity of Bob becoming king by simply drawing a sword from a stone, which is apparently a tourist attraction in central London. It seems the Glorious Revolution never happened. Hmmm. I also loved the inevitable Beatles cameo, and the nice family of bank robbers who kindly pick up hitch hikers.

It ends entertainingly, with Scarlet turning into a massive Dalek and a final intervention from a very young Gru. This is a very silly film and one I much enjoyed.

Despicable Me 2 (2013)

"Good day, Mr Sheepsbutt."

"Ramsbottom!"

This is a bloody good film and well funny although, of course, it's now impossible for Gru to be a proper super villain again. Instead he works for a group of comedy special agents while having a love interest, looking after his daughters and losing Dr Nefarious to a proper supervillain. It's a predictable set-up, but who cares; it's funny.

Seeing Gru playing the part of dad to his three cute little girls will never stop being funny, and the birthday party at the start is hilarious. Not quite so comedic, but heartwarming nonetheless, is his developing relationship with Lucy Wilde. Her introduction, though, having a gadget for everything, is highly amusing.

Also amusing is the idea of Gru now using all his supervillain stuff to, er, make jam. The minions are funny and cute, obviously. My favourite scenes are probably the ones during Gru's date with that horrible conformist woman. And, when it seems that plot convenience is to separate them, there's a hilariously tense scene with Gru trying to pluck up the courage to pick up the phone and ask her out. Inevitably, the girls end up with a new mum.

All of that sounds excessively soppy for a comedy, and it is, but again who cares as there are laughs aplenty. This is just as good as it's predecessor.

Hot Fuzz (2007)

“Well, I see you’ve arrested the whole village.”

Obviously I love this film. That won’t surprise you; I’m exactly the sort of person who would. I’m a huge fan of Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and Edgar Wright, I loved Spaced, and I’ve seen enough action films to get the metatextual nods. Plus, more generally, I’m a geek.

I’ve been in more than my share of sleepy English villages like the one in this film- pretty, genuinely nice, but also rather stultifyingly conservative (and, indeed, generally Conservative) and not good for one’s privacy what with all the gossip. Still, I may prefer cities these days (though I actually live in a village at the mo, albeit not one like this), but I remember the relaxed attitude to underage drinking back when I was a lad. Halcyon days. Still, I can’t really quibble with the film’s broad suggestion that there’s something potentially rather dark lying beneath the close-knit conformity of village life. And this is a perfect depiction of this sort of village, so much so that I can even forgive the use of The Kinks’ The Village Green Preservation Society.

The main thing is, though, that this is a brilliant comedy, and Simon Pegg puts in a typically superb performance as Nick Angel, the perfect cop who annoys everyone with his smartass ways but slowly and gradually lightens up a bit. It’s very noticeable that this isn’t the sort of part you’d usually associate with Pegg; he’s a much more versatile actor than one might assume.

Pegg aside, Nick Frost is also excellent, albeit in the sort of role he usually plays; Timothy Dalton twirls his moustache gleefully while also attempting a West Country accent, and there are roles for such British comedy luminaries as (deep breath) Steve Coogan, Bill Nighy, Bill Bailey (whose character is at one point seen reading Iain Banks’ excellently weird and suitably dark and rural The Wasp Factory!!!), Jim Broadbent, etc. For a geeky actor spotter like me this is Heaven indeed.

The conceit of this film is, of course, to take the tropes of the Hollywood buddy buddy cop movie and transplant them to a leafy little village in the West Country, which cannot fail to be funny. The climax to the film absolutely delivers on this score, and throws in a weird cowled cult into the bargain. We get a very, very funny angle on the cliché that is the montage (see the next blog post!!!) and scenes that look uncannily like Operation Wolf (late ‘80s shoot ‘em up game, for all you non-thirtysomethings out there).

See Hot Fuzz. It’s well good.

24 Hour Party People (2002)

"It's a shame that you didn't sign the Smiths, but you were right about Mick Hucknall. His music's rubbish, and he's a ginger."

I haven't really touched on music that much in this blog which is odd, as I'm rather obsessed by it and have been ever since I first heard Nevermind. I was a late starter; I didn't really bother with music at all until I was sixteen, but Nirvana and the whole Grunge thing meant a whole lot to me as a teenager. That sort of naturally led to Metal bands like Metallica, Pantera and Sepultura, American indie bands such as Sonic Youth, the Butthole Surfers and the Pixies, classic rock, '70s punk, post-punk, and eventually '70s reggae, blues and 20^th century composers like Penderecki, Glass and Xenakis. Basically, I likes me music. I'm sort of centred on the point where rock meets indie, and I'm a long-haired man who wears band t-shirts, but I'm more omnivorous than that might imply, although I'm not one for the late '80s baggy scene, and I've never been to a rave although I've dabbled in a bit of hardcore and gabber.

So I find myself identifying more with the first half of this film musically than the second. Joy Division and New Order are right up my street but I never really much bothered with the whole Madchester thing. I own both albums by the Stone Roses, and they're very good, but I don't know the Happy Mondays beyond the singles. But the whole story is such a fantastic ride, as rock n' roll always is. We see the great times, the sex and the drugs, but also the darkness as Ian Curtis quietly hangs himself after watching a Werner Herzog film. And hanging yourself is a painful, lingering, horrible way to die. The film also doesn't flinch from the awkward fact that the Hacienda, being awash with ecstasy, was funding gangs and guns and death, and Tony Wilson's flippant attitude to this (from real life, I assume, as his cameo appearance seems to imply a level of creative approval) doesn't exactly paint him in a good light. That's precisely why I don't take illegal drugs. Prohibition may be bloody stupid, but that doesn't mean that bootlegging is ok.

That aside, though, and noting his confessed neglect of his second family, the man is pure punk rock. The whole ethos of Factory Records- of total creative freedom for the bands- is wonderful, and economic reality can go to Hell. I'm just about old enough to remember when selling out was something that simply wasn't done, and signing to a major label was always something to be sheepishly apologised for although, in hindsight, that world came to an end when Sonic Youth signed to Geffen. Also wonderful is the way that he talks, and his unashamed refusal to downplay his education. As a fellow English graduate (although Nottingham, not Cambridge!) I love the speech about the "free play of signs and signifiers" in response to Rob Brydon's journalist accusing him (not unreasonably) of fascism because of Joy Division's rather dodgy name. The point here, of course, is that actually he does need to point out the irony of the Durutti Column's name, because these cultural references zoom straight over most people's heads. We see this sort of thing throughout the film; Ian Curtis doesn't even get the W.B. Yeats reference. I like this, though. There's too much inverted snobbery about. Why shouldn't we live in a world where tramps and game show hosts can quote Boethius if they want to?

There are so many stand-out performances here (I'll come to Steve Coogan in a bit), but Andy Serkis was particularly great as Martin Hannett. This is more or less a who's who of British comedy and drama performers, though, from Peter Kay to Simon Pegg. And the cameos, from Mark E. Smith (I spotted him!) to Howard Devoto (if you haven't heard Magazine's Real Life, get the album now) are a nice little extra bit of metatextual fun in a film where there's rather a lot of it, courtesy of screenwriter Frank Cottrell Boyce.

Rob Brydon has only a minor role but this is, I suppose, pretty much one of those Michael Winterbottom films with him and Coogan, all of which are rather good. The style is certainly very much in line with The Trip et al, with a lot of damage being done to the Fourth Wall. It's so very fitting that Coogan as Tony Wilson not only addresses the camera but does so as an unreliable narrator. Coogan has not only the talent but also the charisma to do this superbly. He also plays the moments of real feeling behind the façade; the scene where he's alone with Ian Curtis' laid-out corpse is genuinely moving.

The moment of nemesis is a magnificent conclusion as the Hacienda finally closes and Tony Wilson invites the punters to loot the place. The place certainly had its dark side, very much so, but this film is a joyous celebration of what now seem to be old-fashioned values of independent record labels, creative freedom and vibrant, changing music, unlike the stagnant scene of today with its landfill indie and chart music strangled by the dead hand of svengalis and talent shows. Er, said the old fart. But I'm increasingly coming to the conclusion that the bad old days of svengalis and staid musical conservatism, which came to an end when the Beatles came up with the radical practice of writing their own songs, thereby slaying that dragon. But it never really went away. I've always thought that the rock n' roll revolution of the '50s and '60s was a one-off, an injection of African rhythms into the mainstream of Western popular music, which had already been heralded by jazz and blues which now took over completely and gave rise to so much that was new and alive and wonderful. There will always be new music worth listening to, but those days now seem to be more or less over as a dominant part of mainstream culture. Musically, it's 1955 again. This film is a reminder of better times.