It’s a goddam bad story, isn’t it, Hawk?

Twin Peaks

3.12: Lets rock.

(SPOILERS) I have to admit, this is the first episode of the run that felt merely “okay” to me. Not bad in any respect, but having little to really distinguish itself. You have to think Lynch stuck in that one sliver of a scene of Dale-Dougie playing ball (or rather, having a ball bounced off his head) because he realised Kyle McLachlan would be otherwise absent.

Instead, it’s almost The Gordon Cole Show. Repeated business with his hearing aid, and with some floozy (Bérénice Marlohe) he picked up in the hotel bar (leading to another mirthfully extensive sequence as she very laboriously prepares to leave when Albert calls by; this is evidently the kind of carry on Duchovny’s Denise was warning Cole about, in very meta fashion, way back at the beginning of the season). And Albert delivering some extensive exposition Tammy should surely be partially aware of, having compiled The Secret History of Twin Peaks, regarding the Blue Rose as a follow-on group from Project Blue Book.

Notably, Lynch and Frost are most definitely taking the interdimensional rather than extra-terrestrial path here, with Philip Jeffries, Albert, Coop and Chester Desmond (poor old Chester) – but no Windom Earle – on a quest to find answers to Blue Book anomalies that could not be reached “except by an alternate path”. Tammy’s induction, in a red-draped room, drinking quality vino (this is the new coffee of Twin Peaks, clearly) is accompanied by some of Chrysta Bell’s most oddball performance choices yet, as she attempts to express her enthusiasm in a manner that would make you squirm for her acting coach, if she had one.

Gordon Cole: What do we know, that we haven’t asked her about?

There’s also Diane’s cryptic text message (Q: Las Vegas? A: THEY HAVEN’T ASKED YET), the co-ordinates revealing, surprise, surprise, the town of the title, and, most disconcertingly, Diane uttering, Man from Another Place styl-ee “Let’s rock” in response to being deputised.

Ben Horne: I loved that bike that my father got me.

The second most significant chunk of the episode consists of the Hornes. Jerry finally gets out of the woods. Ben expresses regret over his grandson’s actions like a man struggling to look concerned (although he does stump up for the operation bill), and most importantly, finds his way to giving Sheriff Truman Coop’s Great Northern key, to give back to Harry (why not, there’s about as much chance of seeing the latter again as the real Coop).

Audrey: You’re not going to tell me what she said?

And then there’s Audrey. She’s back… and she’s a real bitch? Is this Lynch playing sadist with his once-prized Peaks totty? Now she’s middle-aged and heartless, reduced to some sort of marriage of convenience with Charlie (Clark Middleton, who I know best from Fringe), her “spineless no-balls loser” of a husband. What exactly is going on here is at least partially inscrutable, but Audrey’s waving her infidelity with Billy under her Charlie’s nose, who retaliates with audible silence when she demands to know the contents of his phone conversation with Tina (Billy’s other half).

First Albert’s notable silence, now Charlie’s. A running theme? I half-expected a reveal that Audrey now has one leg (post-bank explosion), but thus far the explanations for how she got to where she is are entirely elusive. Also referenced: Paul and Chuck? Keep watching, and we’ll hear about more people we’ve never met.

Yes, I had a similar lack of a frame of reference for the bar scene at the end – Heineken aside – between Abbie (Elizabeth Anweis) and Natalie (Ana de la Reguera), discussing how Angela is off her meds and hoping Clark doesn’t fuck this up, and the arrival of Lynch regular (going back to Wild at Heart) Scott Coffey, as Trick, showing up shaken after a traffic altercation. At least there’s the comforting return of the Chromatics.

Sarah Palmer: I don’t feel good!

The rest is kind of piecemeal. Sarah Palmer gets freaked out – no one does freaked-out quite like Grace Zabriskie – with an extended meltdown in the supermarket when confronted by some newly arrived beef and turkey jerky and later rejecting Hawk’s offer of assistance in whatever way she needs (that ominous shot of the turning ceiling fan in her home, and Hawk thinking he heard someone else inside is almost as eerie as Lynch’s sound effects). Hutch and Chantelle put an end to the warden, much to the distress of his wee bairn. Doctor Amp is doing the vamp for liberty (“It’s working for me, Doctor Amp”), and Carl advises neighbour Kriscoll (Bill O’Dell) not to sell his precious red stuff (“Keep your blood”). Tres chic, tres bon, or turnip farm? I expected Let’s rock to rock a bit more than it does, with that title.

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

I’m smarter than a beaver.

Prey (2022) (SPOILERS) If nothing else, I have to respect Dan Trachtenberg’s cynical pragmatism. How do I not only get a project off the ground, but fast-tracked as well? I know, a woke Predator movie! Woke Disney won’t be able to resist! And so, it comes to pass. Luckily for Prey , it gets to bypass cinemas and so the same sorry fate of Lightyear . Less fortunately, it’s a patience-testing snook cocking at historicity (or at least, assumed historicity), in which a young, pint-sized Comanche girl who wishes to hunt and fish – and doubtless shoot to boot – with the big boys gets to take on a Predator and make mincemeat of him. Well, of course , she does. She’s a girl, innit?

Everyone creates the thing they dread.

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) (SPOILERS) Avengers: Age of Ultron ’s problem isn’t one of lack. It benefits from a solid central plot. It features a host of standout scenes and set pieces. It hands (most of) its characters strong defining moments. It doesn’t even suffer now the “wow” factor of seeing the team together for the first time has subsided. Its problem is that it’s too encumbered. Maybe its asking to much of a director to effectively martial the many different elements required by an ensemble superhero movie such as this, yet Joss Whedon’s predecessor feels positively lean in comparison. Part of this is simply down to the demands of the vaster Marvel franchise machine. Seeds are laid for Captain America: Civil War , Infinity Wars I & II , Black Panther and Thor: Ragnarok . It feels like several spinning plates too many. Such activity occasionally became over-intrusive on previous occasions ( Iron Man II ), but there are points in Age of Ultron whe

If you ride like lightning, you're going to crash like thunder.

The Place Beyond the Pines (2012) (SPOILERS) There’s something daringly perverse about the attempt to weave a serious-minded, generation-spanning saga from the hare-brained premise of The Place Beyond the Pines . When he learns he is a daddy, a fairground stunt biker turns bank robber in order to provide for his family. It’s the kind of “only-in-Hollywood” fantasy premise you might expect from a system that unleashed Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man and Point Break on the world. But this is an indie-minded movie from the director of the acclaimed Blue Valentine ; it demands respect and earnest appraisal. Unfortunately it never recovers from the abject silliness of the set-up. The picture is littered with piecemeal characters and scenarios. There’s a hope that maybe the big themes will even out the rocky terrain but in the end it’s because of this overreaching ambition that the film ends up so undernourished. The inspiration for the movie

This entire edifice you see around you, built on jute.

Jeeves and Wooster 3.3: Cyril and the Broadway Musical (aka Introduction on Broadway) Well, that’s a relief. After a couple of middling episodes, the third season bounces right back, and that's despite Bertie continuing his transatlantic trip. Clive Exton once again plunders Carry On, Jeeves but this time blends it with a tale from The Inimitable Jeeves for the brightest spots, as Cyril Basington-Basington (a sublimely drippy Nicholas Hewetson) pursues his stage career against Aunt Agatha's wishes.

I’m the famous comedian, Arnold Braunschweiger.

Last Action Hero (1993) (SPOILERS) Make no mistake, Last Action Hero is a mess. But even as a mess, it might be more interesting than any other movie Arnie made during that decade, perhaps even in his entire career. Hellzapoppin’ (after the 1941 picture, itself based on a Broadway revue) has virtually become an adjective to describe films that comment upon their own artifice, break the fourth wall, and generally disrespect the convention of suspending disbelief in the fictions we see parading across the screen. It was fairly audacious, some would say foolish, of Arnie to attempt something of that nature at this point in his career, which was at its peak, rather than playing it safe. That he stumbled profoundly, emphatically so since he went up against the behemoth that is Jurassic Park (slotted in after the fact to open first), should not blind one to the considerable merits of his ultimate, and final, really, attempt to experiment with the limits of his screen persona.

I think it’s pretty clear whose side the Lord’s on, Barrington.

Monte Carlo or Bust aka Those Daring Young Men in Their Jaunty Jalopies (1969) (SPOILERS) Ken Annakin’s semi-sequel to Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines tends to be rather maligned, usually compared negatively to its more famous predecessor. Which makes me rather wonder if those expressing said opinion have ever taken the time to scrutinise them side by side. Or watch them back to back (which would be more sensible). Because Monte Carlo or Bust is by far the superior movie. Indeed, for all its imperfections and foibles (not least a performance from Tony Curtis requiring a taste for comic ham), I adore it. It’s probably the best wacky race movie there is, simply because each set of competitors, shamelessly exemplifying a different national stereotype (albeit there are two pairs of Brits, and a damsel in distress), are vibrant and cartoonish in the best sense. Albeit, it has to be admitted that, as far as said stereotypes go, Annakin’s home side win

Death to Bill and Ted!

Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey (1991) (SPOILERS) The game of how few sequels are actually better than the original is so well worn, it was old when Scream 2 made a major meta thing out of it (and it wasn’t). Bill & Ted Go to Hell , as Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey was originally called, is one such, not that Excellent Adventure is anything to be sneezed at, but this one’s more confident, even more playful, more assured and more smartly stupid. And in Peter Hewitt it has a director with a much more overt and fittingly cartoonish style than the amiably pedestrian Stephen Herrick. Evil Bill : First, we totally kill Bill and Ted. Evil Ted : Then we take over their lives. My recollection of the picture’s general consensus was that it surpassed the sleeper hit original, but Rotten Tomatoes’ review aggregator suggests a less universal response. And, while it didn’t rock any oceans at the box office, Bogus Journey and Point Break did quite nicely for Keanu Reev

Just because you are a character doesn't mean that you have character.

Pulp Fiction (1994) (SPOILERS) From a UK perspective, Pulp Fiction ’s success seemed like a fait accompli; Reservoir Dogs had gone beyond the mere cult item it was Stateside and impacted mainstream culture itself (hard to believe now that it was once banned on home video); it was a case of Tarantino filling a gap in the market no one knew was there until he drew attention to it (and which quickly became over-saturated with pale imitators subsequently). Where his debut was a grower, Pulp Fiction hit the ground running, an instant critical and commercial success (it won the Palme d’Or four months before its release), only made cooler by being robbed of the Best Picture Oscar by Forrest Gump . And unlike some famously-cited should-have-beens, Tarantino’s masterpiece really did deserve it.

Poetry in translation is like taking a shower with a raincoat on.

Paterson (2016) (SPOILERS) Spoiling a movie where nothing much happens is difficult, but I tend to put the tag on in a cautionary sense much of the time. Paterson is Jim Jarmusch at his most inert and ambient but also his most rewardingly meditative. Paterson (Adam Driver), a bus driver and modest poet living in Paterson, New Jersey, is a stoic in a fundamental sense, and if he has a character arc of any description, which he doesn’t really, it’s the realisation that is what he is. Jarmusch’s picture is absent major conflict or drama; the most significant episodes feature Paterson’s bus breaking down, the English bull terrier Marvin – whom Paterson doesn’t care for but girlfriend Laura (Golshifteh Farahani) dotes on – destroying his book of poetry, and an altercation at the local bar involving a gun that turns out to be a water pistol. And Paterson takes it all in his stride, genial to the last, even the ruination of his most earnest, devoted work (the only disappoint

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.

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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