On the couch

“I’d LOVE to kill my boss!” It’s something we’ve all said at some point or another either to ourselves, co-workers or our  loved ones. But what if el hefe turns up dead and your missus (or mister) is picked up by the cops and turfed into the hoosegow?
Do you a) get the best lawyer you can afford (or, failing that, Daniel Stern) and trust that the legal system couldn’t possibly find an innocent person guilty; b) plan an elaborate and expensive breakout despite haveing no experience whatsoever of the wrong side of the tracks beyond waiting a few days before paying a parking ticket or c) a strangely boring combination of the two?
If you picked option c then The Next Three Days is the film for you.
Russell Crowe and Elizabeth Banks star as John and Lara Brennan. Lara is a business woman with a bit of a temper and John is an English Lit professor. Their kid is blond and quietly cute.
Their domestic bliss is shattered when the cops arrest Lara for the murder of her boss (who she’d been fighting with the day of her death). After the legal efforts fail to get Lara released, John sets about breaking her out of jail.
While the story is good and the premise had the potential to be another Indecent Proposal (how far would you go to save your husband/wife/relationship?) it takes itself a little too seriously and the tale unfolds slowly and ponderously.
Thye film never revels in the build-up to the breakout attempt. Frothy nonsense or not, Ocean’s 11 is a fine example of a film that shows how cinematically satisfying it can be to see a good plan well executed.
The final scene – a taut and tightly edited affair – has all the tension and excitement the rest of the film distinctly lacked but errs to the side of silly on too many occasions, resorting to dumb good luck to get Crowe and Banks out of some sticky situations. For a film that takes itself so seriously, the little leaps of faith required at the end are more of an indulgence than The Next Three Days has earned.
Similarly unlikely and jarring is the appearance of Liam Neeson as “the explainer”, an ex-con who, for no appreciable reason, decides to sit down with Crowe and spill his guts about the fine art of breaking out of jail – a feat he has completed umpteen number of times.
One quick chat and a cup of coffee later, Russ knows all there is to know about subjects as diverse as armed police response times, making “bump” keys at home and what to look for in really good fake documents.
From the snail-like start to the nonsensical conclusion, The Next Three Days is a confused mess saved only, in some small part, by strong performances from a cast that turns out to be poorly served by the story they’re telling.
The recent royal wedding in England and the apparently global preoccupation with such trivia as the bride’s dress and whether or not they’d play Rock the Boat at the afters added a certain edge to my appreciation of The King’s Speech.
The royal family featured in Tom Hooper’s film and the one that made up the cast of one of the most watched television broadcasts of this millennium are very, very different animals. Today’s shower seem like a slightly feckless bunch when viewed in the context of their grand or great grandfather.
While, at heart, a well-played character drama, The King’s Speech also brings back memories of a decidedly more serious time in the world’s history and a time when the actions, words and opinions of the inhabitants of Buck Palace had a profound impact on more than just the sales of Heat magazine or Modern Corgi and governments would live and die on the marital stability of the royal couple.
Colin Firth stars as King George VI who needs help overcoming a bad stutter in order to properly fulfill his royal duty.
After a number of unsuccessful attempts, his wife, Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter), makes an appointment for him to be treated by unorthodox Aussie speech therapist Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush).
Reeking of class at every turn, the story, while slightly predictable, is an absorbing one and manages, without making a fuss to be both hilarious in parts and tragic in others.
One of the most palatable history lessons one could possible hope for.