The Man From U.N.C.L.E. review

The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (12A/PG-13, 116 mins)
Director: Guy Ritchie
★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆

There can be little doubt that turning old TV programmes into movies can be a lucrative business, with Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation currently lighting up box offices and flying the flag for a two-decade old franchise.

Unfortunately that magic has evaporated with the big screen adaptation of another 60s spy show in the shape of The Man From U.N.C.L.E. which deals in Cold War spy shenanigans, albeit coming up woefully short in the actual shenanigans department.

A dull opening sequence introduces us to CIA agent Napoleon Solo (Henry Cavill), who is in East Berlin trying to bust out Gaby (Alicia Vikander) over the wall. Trying to stop him is KGB agent Illya Kuryakin (Armie Hammer), by means of a pedestrian car chase and laboured banter.

It fails to pick up after this, as the pair are told by their superiors that they must work together to prevent a nuclear bomb being built, which has something or other to do with Gaby’s uncle. She poses as Kuryakin’s wife as the - for want of a better word - action moves to Rome and a lot of talking ensues.

It’s all punishingly dull, paced like treacle and the exact opposite of what you might reasonably have expected from a Guy Ritchie spy movie, given what he did with Sherlock Holmes. It’s also the exact opposite of a summer movie, entirely lacking life or energy, and absolutely nothing happens for the first hour or more. It’s supposed to be a sprightly caper and the music seems to think the film is jaunty, but that’s not backed up by what’s on screen.

It’s not even as though while nothing is happening we’re getting to know those involved or being entertained by them. Solo and Kuryakin are dull as individuals and chemistry-deficient when they get together.

Taking place mostly in Italy, it’s remarkably glamour-free, while the need to make it look like the 60s adds a horrible CG sheen to some of the locations. Elsewhere honking innuendo passes for humour and it treats the audience like idiots through painful exposition.

So the humour is lame, the action is non-existent and the espionage is thrill-less. It should be Bond, but it’s barely Johnny English, aiming for laid back but overdoing it to the extent that it becomes an immensely boring failure.

The Paperboy review

The Paperboy (15/R, 107 mins)
Director: Lee Daniels
★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆

Lee Daniels’ first film since his Oscar-winning Precious certainly serves up a combustible hodgepodge of flavourful ingredients, even if the finished dish lacks a certain something. We’re in sweltering 1960s Florida, where a murdered sheriff leads to John Cusack’s convicted killer on death row, and Nicole Kidman’s white trash Charlotte who claims to be in love with him. Enter Zac Efron as a young writer assisting his journalist brother (Matthew McConaughey) on an investigation into Cusack’s possible innocence, with his relationship with Charlotte getting him into bother he never dreamed of. Though unapologetically lurid, The Paperboy is never quite fun or demented enough to overcome the thinness of a story that has to be garnished with sleaze to disguise it shortcomings and the complete lack of a third act. One particular scene, which we’ll call the “jellyfish” scene in the interests of good taste, will live on in infamy far beyond the film itself, which should tell you everything you need to know. Filthy and sweaty it certainly is, and fans of Efron in his pants will be over the moon. But engaging, or dramatically satisfying? Not even close.

Made in Dagenham review

Made in Dagenham (15, 113 mins)
Director: Nigel Cole
★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

3000 cars a day were rolling off the production line of the Ford plant in Dagenham in 1968, which boasted a workforce of 55,000, of whom 187 are women. They're employed mainly as sewing machinists and are classed as unskilled, and therefore paid less than the men. It’s their story we’re told in this charming drama in which Sally Hawkins timid Rita is chosen to represent the workers at a meeting with management and more than holds her own. The result is that the women go out on strike, something unheard of in those days, with their actions threatening the future of the entire plant. Telling Rita’s story and the bigger picture of equal pay for all women, this is a crowd pleaser buoyed by a wonderful turn from Hawkins and backed up by a host of familiar faces from Bob Hoskins to Miranda Richardson. But it does have a tendency to go on a bit, subplots are undernourished and it never fully demonstrates why it’s not just a television drama.

When You’re Strange review

When You’re Strange (15, 85 mins)
Director: Tom DiCillo

★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

When You’re Strange is a no-nonsense chronological account of The Doors, from their early days as a supporting act in the mid 60s to front-man Jim Morrison’s death in a Paris bathtub in 1971. From their very first record deal, the focus is on how Morrison’s drinking affected their music and their reputation. What’s particularly valuable about it is that it’s told entirely with archive footage, some of it extraordinary, that shows Morrison both as an impassioned performer and just how inflammatory he was to a crowd. Evocative as a chronicle of a time and place, and with Johnny Depp’s persuasive narration, it mostly shows how the self destructive lizard king joined the list of artists whose death ensured their immortality.