Now here’s a film that hits the ‘D’ spot. Dildos, double-crossing, decapitation and…dykes? No. Dolls. Judicious executive censoring put pay to the original title. This is the long-awaited Joel-free feature debut of Ethan Coen. Joel broke free of the Coen brand with The Tragedy of Macbeth, now Ethan presents Drive-Away Dolls. It’s a fine enough title but of limited value as a forebear of the debauchery within. Of course, a film’s success is measured less by the size of its silicone penises than what the director does with them. Coen thrusts his front and centre, sex toy and emasculatory symbol alike. The frolics are raucously flippant. Sure, the film desperately wants for tighter and more incisive plotting but we can, at least, rely on Joel for that. Suddenly we see how the pairing adds up.
Denis Villeneuve’s great gamble has paid off. Such is now, surely, irrefutable. Frank Herbert’s once seemingly insurmountable literary tome finally has a cinematic counterpart worthy of the name. Dune. If there seemed little appetite for a one sci-fi epic back in 2021, Villeneuve’s conviction that Herbert’s vision warranted two was risky. Certainly, there was no guarantee in a pandemic weakened box office that Part Two would ever see the light of day. Villeneuve’s long anticipated – in certain quarters – Blade Runner sequel had, after all, failed to match critical for commercial acclaim. And yet, here we are. Where Villeneuve’s first Dune was bold, noble and a little ponderous in its world building, his second is nothing short of mesmeric. Villeneuve has made peace with the Shai-Hulud and this is just the beginning.
There’s little hiding the glee with which Olivia Coleman chews through her share of the expletives abundant in Wicked Little Letters. A renowned potty mouth unleashed. Astonishingly, this new British comedy, from Me Before You director Thea Shamrock, is based on entirely true events. Though the script is that of comedian Jonny Sweet, the crudities come lifted from poison pen letters sent in 1920s Littlehampton. It’s like a ‘foxy ass’ Downton Abbey, had Lady Grantham slipped in the occasional f**k at high tea.
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