I have never tasted a more magnificent pheasant. It was a masterpiece, doctor.

The Avengers

3.5: Death a La Carte

An episode with a seemingly frivolous premise (murder in the kitchen), is furnished with surprisingly robust plotting despite itself. That said, writer John Lucarotti, in his pre-penultimate teleplay for the series, more than delivers on the humorous potential (and title). Which makes this very much Steed’s show, posing as chef Sebastian Stonemarten and enjoying himself immensely.

Dr Spender: (observing the Emir having a drink) You shouldn’t, you know.

Emir Abdulla Akaba: So you have been telling me for years.

Dr Spender: And so has your religion.

Part of the fun here, even though it isn’t dwelt upon, is that as a cook Steed can clearly compete with the best of them. He’s called in, under cover of a classically voluminous chef’s hat, to cater for the needs of Emir Abdulla Akaba (Henry Lincoln, of Doctor Who Yeti and Holy Blood Holy Grail fame, donning blackface), an ailing Arab in London for his annual health check who does so like to indulge the very best of gastronomic delights. Cathy is on board as his social director for the visit, but the Emir’s longevity is put down to the persistence of Mellor (Robert James, Lesterson listen in The Power of the Daleks); Dr Spender (Paul Dawkins) suggests he would have died years ago without him.

Steed: A vintage Burgundy, the company of a beautiful woman, and a boeuf bourguignon – my recipe for a perfect evening.

Steed’s co-kitcheners are Lucien (Gordon Rollings) and Umberto (David Nettheim, Fedorin in The Enemy of the World), each expressing different specialities of cuisine. Presided over by the pompous, prissy Arbuthnot (Ken Parry), they’re instructed to keep all food preparations clearly distinct. All is not well, of course, or the Avengers wouldn’t be there, and someone is out to put an end to the “ill-tempered, vain, selfish old devil” (Cathy’s words; Steed replies that his personality isn’t important, to which Cathy retorts “Ah, but his oil wells are”).

The murder plot involves drugged mushrooms, secreted into the penthouse suite by Mellor and prepared by Lucien, although they don’t get the chance to carry out their plan, firstly because Steed destroys Umberto’s cannelloni (“You great big steaming nit!” exclaims Umberto, dropping all pretence at Italian origins) and then because the Emir expires from natural causes (a coronary).

The true cause of death isn’t revealed until the final scene, though, and there’s even a nice little touch at the end of Act 2 when Spender’s reaction to the Emir’s exit suggests he too may be involved. If there’s a criticism, it’s that we know it’s Mellor up to no good too soon, and his motivations are never clearly outlined (“I’m afraid your revolting friends won’t be too pleased when they find you’ve made a mess of it” says Steed, but who they are and why exactly they’re intent on offing him goes unrevealed, unless I missed it). As matters come to a head, Steed engages in a brutal fight with the Emir’s lackey Ali (stuntman Valentino Musetti), which appears to conclude with the latter getting a face full of chip fat. Very unpleasant.

Along the way, there are numerous lovely little moments; the look Steed gives Cathy when Arbuthnot is complaining that Stonemarten should be off preparing the pheasant; Steed’s description of how he will prepare said bird, “As you would say, ‘stupendissimo’. Transports one out of this world”; Steed bringing the Emir a plate of poached eggs after the cannelloni goes tits-up; Umberto serving the pair a fish-and-chips supper in the closing scene (“We’re frying tonight”).

A witty, zesty little episode then, and a great showcase for Steed’s all-conquering urbanity. Death a la Carte is also blessed with a full-bodied, flavoursome cast.

Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.

Your Mickey Mouse is one big stupid dope!

Enemy Mine (1985) (SPOILERS) The essential dynamic of Enemy Mine – sworn enemies overcome their differences to become firm friends – was a well-ploughed one when it was made, such that it led to TV Tropes assuming, since edited, that it took its title from an existing phrase (Barry Longyear, author of the 1979 novella, made it up, inspired by the 1961 David Niven film The Best of Enemies ). The Film Yearbook Volume 5 opined that that Wolfgang Petersen’s picture “ lacks the gritty sauciness of Hell in the Pacific”; John Boorman’s WWII film stranded Lee Marvin and Toshiro Mifune on a desert island and had them first duking it out before becoming reluctant bedfellows. Perhaps germanely, both movies were box office flops.

If I do nothing else, I will convince them that Herbert Stempel knows what won the goddam Academy Award for Best goddam Picture of 1955. That’s what I’m going to accomplish.

Quiz Show (1994) (SPOILERS) Quiz Show perfectly encapsulates a certain brand of Best Picture nominee: the staid, respectable, diligent historical episode, a morality tale in response to which the Academy can nod their heads approvingly and discerningly, feeding as it does their own vainglorious self-image about how times and attitudes have changed, in part thanks to their own virtuousness. Robert Redford’s film about the 1950s Twenty-One quiz show scandals is immaculately made, boasts a notable cast and is guided by a strong screenplay from Paul Attanasio (who, on television, had just created the seminal Homicide: Life on the Streets ), but it lacks that something extra that pushes it into truly memorable territory.

Other monks will meet their deaths here. And they too will have blackened fingers. And blackened tongues.

The Name of the Rose (1986) (SPOILERS) Umberto Eco wasn’t awfully impressed by Jean Jacques-Annaud’s adaptation of his novel – or “ palimpsest of Umberto Eco’s novel ” as the opening titles announce – to the extent that he nixed further movie versions of his work. Later, he amended that view, calling it “ a nice movie ”. He also, for balance, labelled The Name of the Rose his worst novel – “ I hate this book and I hope you hate it too ”. Essentially, he was begrudging its renown at the expense of his later “ superior ” novels. I didn’t hate the novel, although I do prefer the movie, probably because I saw it first and it was everything I wanted from a medieval Sherlock Holmes movie set in a monastery and devoted to forbidden books, knowledge and opinions.

You ever heard the saying, “Don’t rob the bank across from the diner that has the best donuts in three counties”?

2 Guns (2013) (SPOILERS) Denzel Washington is such a reliable performer, that it can get a bit boring. You end up knowing every gesture or inflection in advance, whether he’s playing a good guy or a bad guy. And his films are generally at least half decent, so you end up seeing them. Even in Flight (or perhaps especially in Flight ; just watch him chugging down that vodka) where he’s giving it his Oscar-nominatable best, he seems too familiar. I think it may be because he’s an actor who is more effective the less he does. In 2 Guns he’s not doing less, but sometimes it seems like it. That’s because the last person I’d ever expect blows him off the screen; Mark Wahlberg.

Piece by piece, the camel enters the couscous.

The Forgiven (2021) (SPOILERS) By this point, the differences between filmmaker John Michael McDonagh and his younger brother, filmmaker and playwright Martin McDonagh, are fairly clearly established. Both wear badges of irreverence and provocation in their writing, and a willingness to tackle – or take pot-shots – at bigger issues, ones that may find them dangling their toes in hot water. But Martin receives the lion’s share of the critical attention, while John is generally recognised as the slightly lesser light. Sure, some might mistake Seven Psychopaths for a John movie, and Calvary for a Martin one, but there’s a more flagrant sense of attention seeking in John’s work, and concomitantly less substance. The Forgiven is clearly aiming more in the expressly substantial vein of John’s earlier Calvary, but it ultimately bears the same kind of issues in delivery.

Say hello to the Scream Extractor.

Monsters, Inc. (2001) (SPOILERS) I was never the greatest fan of Monsters, Inc. , even before charges began to be levelled regarding its “true” subtext. I didn’t much care for the characters, and I particularly didn’t like the way Pixar’s directors injected their own parenting/ childhood nostalgia into their plots. Something that just seems to go on with their fare ad infinitum. Which means the Pixars I preferred tended to be the Brad Bird ones. You know, the alleged objectivist. Now, though, we learn Pixar has always been about the adrenochrome, so there’s no going back…

Haven’t you ever heard of the healing power of laughter?

Batman (1989) (SPOILERS) There’s Jaws , there’s Star Wars , and then there’s Batman in terms of defining the modern blockbuster. Jaws ’ success was so profound, it changed the way movies were made and marketed. Batman’s marketing was so profound, it changed the way tentpoles would be perceived: as cash cows. Disney tried to reproduce the effect the following year with Dick Tracy , to markedly less enthusiastic response. None of this places Batman in the company of Jaws as a classic movie sold well, far from it. It just so happened to hit the spot. As Tim Burton put it, it was “ more of a cultural phenomenon than a great movie ”. It’s difficult to disagree with his verdict that the finished product (for that is what it is) is “ mainly boring ”. Now, of course, the Burton bat has been usurped by the Nolan incarnation (and soon the Snyder). They have some things in common. Both take the character seriously and favour a sombre tone, which was much more of shock to the

In a few moments, you will have an experience that will seem completely real. It will be the result of your subconscious fears transformed into your conscious awareness.

Brainstorm (1983) (SPOILERS) Might Brainstorm have been the next big thing – a ground-breaking, game-changing cinematic spectacle that had as far reaching consequences as Star Wars (special effects) or Avatar (3D) – if only Douglas Trumbull had been allowed to persevere with his patented “Showscan” process (70mm film photographed and projected at 60 frames per second)? I suspect not; one only has to look at the not-so-far-removed experiment of Ang Lee with Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk , and how that went down like a bag of cold sick, to doubt that any innovation will necessarily catch on (although Trumbull at least had a narrative hinge on which to turn his “more real than real” imagery, whereas Lee’s pretty much boiled down to “because it was there”). Brainstorm ’s story is, though, like its title, possibly too cerebral, too much concerned with the consciousness and touting too little of the cloyingly affirmative that Bruce Rubin inevitably brings to his screenplays. T

No one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.

The Matrix (1999) (SPOILERS) Twenty years on, and the articles are on the defining nature of The Matrix are piling up, most of them touching on how its world has become a reality, or maybe always was one. At the time, its premise was engaging enough, but it was the sum total of the package that cast a spell – the bullet time, the fashions, the soundtrack, the comic book-as-live-action framing and styling – not to mention it being probably the first movie to embrace and reflect the burgeoning Internet ( Hackers doesn’t really count), and subsequently to really ride the crest of the DVD boom wave. And now? Now it’s still really, really good.

Twenty dwarves took turns doing handstands on the carpet.

Bugsy (1991) (SPOILERS) Bugsy is very much a Warren Beatty vanity project (aren’t they all, even the ones that don’t seem that way on the surface?), to the extent of his playing a title character a decade and a half younger than him. As such, it makes sense that producer Warren’s choice of director wouldn’t be inclined to overshadow star Warren, but the effect is to end up with a movie that, for all its considerable merits (including a script from James Toback chock full of incident), never really feels quite focussed, that it’s destined to lead anywhere, even if we know where it’s going.

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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