No more, Mr Nice Guys... please
TAKE one look at his CV and it’s clear Russell Crowe doesn’t do comedy. And neither, as it turns out, does Ryan Gosling, based on the strength of this crime caper. Director Shane Black may have surprised with The Long Kiss Goodnight (1996), Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005) and the first two Lethal Weapon movies, but his latest is a shadow of past glories.
In a plot with twists and red herrings worthy of Raymond Chandler, Gosling plays Holland, a boozy private eye in ’70s LA whose latest job is to track down a presumed-dead adult film star.
Between gumshoeing it around Hollywood and sleeping off last night’s bender, his assignment leads to him crossing paths with a thug for hire, Jackson (Crowe). Forming an unlikely alliance, the pair discover how everyone involved with a bizarre porn-protest movie, highlighting the city’s smog, has met with sticky ends.
The film features small supporting parts from Kim Basinger, Matt Bomer and Angourie Rice, playing Holland’s daughter, Holly.
The best thing about The Nice Guys are the period details, from Gosling’s dodgy moustache and line in comedy kipper ties to Crowe’se’s faintly hideous blue leather er jacket. And then there are the lax morals of the disco era, no end of polyester plus a soundtrack awash with the likes of Kiss and Earth Wind & Fire.
Unfortunately, when you get behind the garish hues and fashion faux pas, the story is of the shaggiest dog variety and with a running time ofjust shy of two hours, chances are you’ll run out of patience before the
credits roll.
As for the humour, it’s not quite as sharp as say, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, with matters not helped by Gosling’s misjudged squeals. Meanwhile, a surreal episode involving a bumble bee in his car really should have been axed.
The young Rice, last seen in These Final Hours, steals the show as the only grown-up in the film, despite being a mere 13 years of age.
ME BEFORE YOU (12A) ★★★★★
SAM CLAFLIN and Emilia Clarke do their best to trouble our tear ducts in a mildly engaging weepie bolstered by a decent central performance but let down by a hugely predictable ending.
Clarke plays happy-go-lucky Lou who lands a job as the carer/ companion for haughty quadriplegic Will (Claflin).
While he’s an icy snob still depressed at the accident that left him in a wheelchair, it’s not long before Little Miss Sunshine starts to thaw his heart, by way of trips to the races, a concert and a romantic break in the tropics.
There’s never any doubt where it’s all heading and it’s a pity there are so few surprises en route. Plus there’s an odd emphasis on how Lou isn’t (repeat, ISN’T) required to wipe Will’s bum.
Still, Clarke – best known for wearing a blonde wig and little else in Game Of Thrones – lights up the screen and there’s a brief but amusing cameo from Joanna Lumley.
BLOOD ORANGE (15) ★★★★★
WHILE CRESTING THE WAVE OF A LATE-CAREER RESURGENCE, IGGY POP HAS SOMEHOW FOUND TIME TO APPEAR IN THIS BROODING ROMANTIC DRAMA.
Much like his last album, Post Pop Depression, it’s a project that continually surprises.
The 69-year-old musician plays – although he doesn’t seem to be acting – an aged rock star living in splendid isolation with his much younger and sexually voracious wife (Grange Hill’s Kacey Clarke).
Into their world appears one of his ex-lovers (Ben Lamb) who believes she stole his inheritance. And he’s here to get it back. The result is a deliberatelypaced, slow-burning indie that works as an exploration of sexual jealousy with a sense of violence lying just below the surface.