My Inevitable (and Final) Review of Inside No. 9

With life being the way it is, this blog has become something that I only do when I really desperately need to talk about a series that I love. As such, it was only ever inevitable that I would write a review of the ninth and final series of my favourite TV show, Inside No. 9. When I first watched the series, I was a sixth form student nursing a love of television that quickly became my passion, as after watching ‘Sardines’ (Series 1, Episode 1) I felt like I had seen how powerful television could be. As a writer and university student, the show became my obsession and the thing that inspired me; diligently watching every episode as it came out and making all the people I love most see as many episodes as possible. Without Inside No. 9, I can almost certainly say that I may not have begun to study television, or indeed have begun to take writing seriously. Consequently, I fear I owe Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith, and all the people that made the show, some sort of debt I could not possibly repay.

Before my introduction gets even longer and more sentimental, I will forge on with my reviews of each episode of series nine of Inside No. 9. For the final time, there are spoilers ahead…

1. Boo to a Goose

What a way to kick off a series. This episode was such a good piece of social commentary, and blatant in a way not seen in the series before. It’s such a cleverly curated twist as well, I struggled to figure out the ending from the way the episode progressed and then it seemed so obvious when it was revealed. The guest cast is also magnificent as usual, with Mark Bonnar acting suitably cruel and Joel Fry playing ‘suspicious’ wonderfully to conceal the twist. The standout performance for me, though, has to go to Philippa Dunne’s inoffensive nurse – to play a character so timid you sometimes forget she is there and make such good use of the more limited dialogue and screen time requires both skill and humility, it was such a treat to witness. I also have to point out that if being a brilliant actor and writer does not work out for Steve Pemberton, he could have a lucrative career as a drag queen.

2. The Trolley Problem

Many people hoped for an episode that allowed Pemberton and Shearsmith to take full centre stage, something ‘Bernie Clifton’s Dressing Room’-esque. This is that episode. The characters they take on are both of their strengths: Reece Shearsmith’s Drew appears blatantly troubled and unhinged, but also quietly calculated. Meanwhile, Steve Pemberton plays Blake as unassuming and kindly, allowing the darkness to permeate later in the episode. It is a complete masterclass in acting from the pair, and the ending made me gasp out loud, on the whole an extremely well-constructed episode. 

3. Mulberry Close

I was extremely excited about this episode from a directing perspective. Filmed entirely through a doorbell camera, Al Campbell uses the space extremely well and the stationary camera allows the performances to shine. It plays on many tropes, such as nosy neighbours and the mysterious new couple, but takes them to create something rather unique. I must add that the episode uses silence well, it would be easy to become reliant on dialogue to drive the episode when the visuals are so minimal, but a common trait in Inside No. 9 scripts is allowing the audience to hear what is not being said. ‘Mulberry Close’ makes for a great example of that. 

4. Ctrl Alt Esc

Unfortunately for me, I was unable to watch a few of the episodes of this series as they aired, meaning I had to catch up on them at a later date. This involved avoiding spoilers like the plague, and for this episode in particular I thought I had failed, having seen some screen grabs on Twitter (or X, if you prefer, which I do not). Going into the episode, I expected straight horror, but I was misled by the internet and was extremely pleasantly surprised by the ending which shook me in a way for which I was not prepared. Furthermore, the set was extremely detailed and sold the illusion of the escape room very convincingly, especially in contrast to the pared back hospital room set. This provides a very clear piece of symbolism that is only obvious once the premise is fully understood. It’s a great episode with a strong emotional core.

5. The Curse of the Ninth

The fifth episode of the series is another one I had to catch up on after it aired, and I was provided with extremely mixed reports on its quality. However, I firmly disagree with anyone who believes this to be a weaker episode than the rest of the run because I consider it to be an intelligent foray into gothic horror, occasionally feeling reminiscent of M. R. James’ ghost stories. Potentially, I am biassed, as this episode is directed by the absolutely genius Guillem Morales — a frequent collaborator on Inside No. 9 and my all-time favourite director of the series. Morales once again demonstrates his eye for horror, curating this atmosphere of foreboding by allowing the viewer to find the fear themselves. By avoiding close shots, there is this ever-present sense of something in the background, something that is bigger than any of the acts of the characters on-screen, this threat of the personified curse. Morales uses the space artfully, while the script mingles human motivation with supernatural threat. That shot of the broken neck is pretty impactful, too.

6. Plodding On

As the final episode of Inside No. 9, I almost feel I should be writing an entire review of this alone. I have heard this episode described as a love letter and there are no more perfect words to describe this finale. It is cameo laden in a way that does not feel gratuitous, sentimental but not saccharine, and self-referential without ego. Finding a satisfying way to end an anthology series must have been no mean feat, and so I feel the meta option of actors returning as themselves at an Inside No. 9 wrap party was a clever way to go. It is difficult to surmise something like this in merely a few words, and if I discussed the episode as I have done with the others I fear I will begin repeating myself. So I will say this: I nearly cried three times while watching it, I have not stopped thinking (or talking) about it since, and I will almost certainly be watching it again after I finish this review.

If you made it to the end of this post, or even just read the first line and got bored, I am extremely grateful to you. I am also extremely grateful for this series and I would like to end this now so I can go back and rewatch it all over again.

~ Caelum

My previous Inside No. 9 reviews:

Short Reviews of Every Single Episode of Inside No. 9 [1/2] (Series 1-3)

Short Reviews of Every Single Episode of Inside No. 9 [2/2] (Series 4-6)

Another Series of Inside No. 9 Just Ended…So I’m Back (Series 7)

The Only Certain Things in Life are Death and my ‘Inside No. 9’ Reviews (Series 8)

The Only Certain Things in Life are Death and my ‘Inside No. 9’ Reviews

In my life, I can be guaranteed to be in one of two states: waiting for a new series of Inside No. 9, or watching a new series of Inside N.o 9. Before I return to my former state, as the penultimate series came to a close last night, I am here to explore my thoughts on this latest instalment of the BBC2 anthology series. This programme has, unlike me, never failed to impress. So, without any further preamble, let me get into my thoughts on all six episodes of Inside No. 9, series 8. 

Spoilers ahead, so please be warned.

1. The Bones of St. Nicholas

This series began many months ago with the Christmas special, because who doesn’t want a pinch of creepy with their Christmas festivities? Frequently, the art of misdirection is an important factor in building to an episode’s conclusion for Inside No. 9, and this is a pretty textbook example of that. We were led to believe that this will be a ghost story, and were shown down that path so masterfully by the wonderful Simon Callow delivering the tale of this supposedly haunted church. Then, so subtly, we are introduced to the idea of premonitions by Shobna Gulati’s Posy, foregrounding something that only becomes clear in those final scenes. Sometimes I feel when writing these reviews that I am repeating myself, emphasising the way in which the writing and the acting marry to create something that is completely wonderful to watch, however that is what makes Inside No. 9 great. This is so clear in ‘The Bones of St. Nicholas’, and that final shot remains imprinted on my mind. I believe the whole episode was an example of what was to come, and in hindsight I wish I could have predicted that sooner. 

2. Mother’s Ruin

First and foremost, Reece Shearsmith’s cockney accent as Edward  really made me laugh, not because it was bad but because it took me off guard for some reason. Regardless, I enjoyed the humour of this episode above all else. One of the things I considered so great about Psychoville was the way in which it combined the dark, the absurd, and the real. That is what we got from this episode, though with just a hint of the paranormal as well. I also have to draw attention to the practical effect used when Edward’s foot is cut off, I believe my exact words at the time were “bloody hell, that’s gnarly”. I would describe the episode on the whole as violent, but in a fun way, a bit like ‘A Quiet Night In’. It was definitely a nice reintroduction for series 8 after the long gap between this episode and the Christmas special.

3. Paraskevidekatriaphobia

It took me until the next week’s episode aired to be able to pronounce the title for this one. This episode felt like another return to form, written like a comedy of errors with a dark undertone. It was nice to have an episode that actually felt distinctly humorous, with Shearsmith perfectly encapsulating the panicky and particular Gareth as an increasingly absurd cast of characters arrived at the scene. On the whole, it had all of the ingredients that make an episode of Inside No. 9 good, and I truly did not see the twist coming. Or indeed Dermot O’Leary being there, but that was nice too.

4. Love Is a Stranger

“I saw the twist coming” announced every smart arse on Twitter after this episode aired. Well you know what, so did I, but that does not make this a bad episode by any means. I could write a paper on why I think that we as an audience being so trapped in the idea of the ‘twist’ takes away from the fact that the journey is almost always the most important part of the story. Yes, my initial instincts with this episode were correct, but the narrative structure which led me to that conclusion is what made this episode such a strong one in my eyes. Moreover, the directing was wonderful, and that panning shot to the jar with the finger in it particularly stood out as a simple but effective piece of visual storytelling. Claire Rushbrook had a great take on the character of Vicky, and I love seeing Asim Chaudhry in anything. Overall, a brilliant episode, leaving me with one question: was the line “are you a man or a mouse?” a Psychoville reference or am I reading too much into it?

5. 3 by 3

Clever gits. This was a spectacular bait-and-switch, I don’t even know where to begin. The fact that they put the effort in to advertise an entirely different episode and then made a game show hosted by Lee Mack is one hell of a risk to have taken, and it really paid off. The Pemberton and Shearsmith writing duo have never been great for my trust issues, and this episode encapsulated that. I wasn’t sure what to expect at all when watching this one, but it’s safe to say that I was on edge for most of it. Not in the least because apparently I’m even competitive over fake game shows. It was a lovely way to mess with the format of the show and completely shift expectations, and ‘3 by 3’ will likely be one of my favourite episodes, definitely of this series if not the whole show. And Lee Mack is a great game show host.

6. The Last Weekend

I think this episode is sending me through the five stages of grief, and I’m sure I’m at anger because why would they do that to me? Above all else, this exemplified what great actors and writers Pemberton and Shearsmith are, breaking my heart in 1000 different ways in one episode. This one had a ‘The Riddle of the Sphinx’ flavour to it, in that I don’t think I’ll ever watch it again but it was utterly mind-blowing. In fact, I think it might have ruined my life. All of that is absolutely complimentary, it did everything I want from an episode of Inside No. 9. The foreshadowing was perfect, the tone became unsettling at exactly the right moment, and I think the impact will stay with me for a very long time. 

When Inside No. 9 ends, I will miss it dearly. Assuming I’m still doing these reviews when the final series airs (which I almost certainly will be) that will be when I wax lyrical about the genuine impact it has made on my life in far greater detail. The show holds a special place in my heart, and this series has not changed that, once again exceeding my expectations for the amount of story that can fit into a half hour slot. Now I’m going to try and erase the final images of ‘The Last Weekend’ from my mind.

~ Caelum

My previous Inside No. 9 reviews:

Short Reviews of Every Single Episode of Inside No. 9 [1/2] (Series 1-3)

Short Reviews of Every Single Episode of Inside No. 9 [2/2] (Series 4-6)

Another Series of Inside No. 9 Just Ended…So I’m Back (Series 7)

‘The Cleaner’ Goes From Strength to Strength

My favourite unexpected delight of 2021 was by far The Cleaner. With Greg Davies starring, maybe my expectations should have been higher than they were, but when I had no knowledge of the show beyond it being a comedy about a crime scene cleaner, I couldn’t help but think “how good can this really be?” 

Upon getting past my prejudices, I found myself pleasantly surprised by series one, and so was delighted to hear that a second series was commissioned by the BBC. Especially when the wonderfully funny The Witchfinder was unceremoniously cancelled. Recently, I was able to watch the entire series on BBC iPlayer and it’s safe to say that series two is, once again, a triumph. 

The first episode was delightfully sentimental, just like the series one first episode. Discussions about the trials and tribulations of love are the hallmark of this episode, and it is truly lovely to watch. In fact, I would note that fundamental to The Cleaner is a certain sense of sentimentality, which I suppose makes sense when a death is the catalyst to the narrative of each episode. What I picked up on the most is the theme of pursuing happiness, even when life hasn’t worked out exactly as planned. Of course, the diversion of expectations is essentially what comedy is, but this show is unique in how it doesn’t shy away from wider discussions about philosophical issues. At its core, The Cleaner is an exploration of how strange and funny people are, especially in times of crisis but also in their day-to-day lives. Each episode manages to strike a balance between the funny and the sentimental, for which I have to commend it.

In my previous review of series one, I don’t believe I gave quite enough time to the performance of Greg Davies. The majority of Davies’ acting roles have been almost wholly comedic in nature, and I feel that the character of Wicky really shows what he can accomplish as an actor. Certainly, he plays the humour amazingly well and his comic timing is, as always, utterly delicious. However, I feel that Davies has also been able to communicate a depth to the character, showing how Wicky has a life outside of work even though we never see him outside of work. Greg Davies has range and we should talk about it more. 

While The Cleaner is, first and foremost, a comedy, it is also emblematic of how tragedy and comedy intertwine. Series two maintains thoughtful writing paired with some very good jokes, and it’s overall an engaging and fun programme to watch. There’s a fun little nod to the original German series in one of the episodes, and I can only hope that the UK series goes on the match or exceed the original’s seven season run. 

– Caelum

Nostalgia Trip: A Ranking of Every Scooby-Doo Theme Song

One very quiet night, I have the compulsive desire to revive this blog, as I get great joy from writing my little reviews. Another thought hit me at that exact moment: I need to rank every theme song from Scooby-Doo TV series that I know. When those two thoughts combined, I arrived here. This is by no means a definitive list; I believe there are a couple of series that I have skipped out on, but it is fairly close. Without further ado, I will provide my embarrassingly well-considered ranking of every single Scooby-Doo theme song, from worst to best.

12. Be Cool Scooby-Doo! (2015-2018)

While the programme itself certainly left a lot to be desired, the theme song is far more egregious than any of the content. Looking back, the show itself was fine (especially considering the embarrassment that is Velma). The theme song, however, feels incredibly lacklustre. It does not have the catchy lyrics of so many of its predecessors and totally fails to create any sense of what to expect. Ultimately, it just gives the feeling of a generic children’s programme, seriously missing the spooky or fun energy of other entries on this list.

11. Shaggy and Scooby-Doo Get a Clue! (2006-2008)

Right. Let me ask a question here. What the hell is this show about just based on the intro? If I were watching it for the first time, I would have no idea what the actual premise is. It does nothing to explain itself to new viewers, and it has nothing nostalgia fans could take comfort from. It’s not the format we’re used to and we can see that from the outset, but the theme song does nothing to explain what it actually is. Or maybe it does, I’m not sure, because the lyrics are so poorly enunciated I can’t get an idea of what the vocalist is meant to be saying.

10. The New Scooby-Doo and Scrappy-Doo Show (1983)

Like all self-respecting Scooby-Doo fans, I don’t like Scrappy-Doo. He’s really blooming annoying. That is not, however, the reason I do not like this theme song. That is because it isn’t really anything. It’s not an ear-worm like so many of the other theme songs, and it’s not so bad that I enjoy complaining about it. A nothing theme song for a nothing show, in my opinion.

9. Scooby-Doo and Scrappy-Doo (1979-1982)

Is anyone really all that surprised that I, a self-proclaimed Scrappy-Doo hater, does not rate the theme song from the original Scooby and Scrappy series? This theme song, once again, has nothing to it. I’m not excited to watch the show, I’m mostly just irritated at all the screen time being given to an overzealous puppy. It’s far to relaxed to be an opening to a fun little children’s mystery show, It gets ranked above the later series only because I like the train and the lightening at the beginning; it’s all downhill from there.

8. The New Scooby-Doo Mysteries (1984)

For a show intended for a young, contemporary audience, there is something about this theme song that feels extremely dated. As said by my friend El “it’s giving mum’s choir”. I can’t say I disagree. Like with many of these mid-tier theme songs, I’m not mad at it, I’m just extremely disappointed. There’s truly very little else to say.

7. A Pup Named Scooby-Doo (1988-1991)

Truthfully, the biggest problem with this theme song is that it is not some of the others that make up this list. It’s jolly, it’s sweet, but it’s simply not iconic enough to make it further up on the list. There’s also no real build to it, and even for a one minute theme song it feels just slightly too long.

6. The New Scooby-Doo Movies (1972-1973)

This is the theme song that starts to be what I want from a theme song. It has the sense of foreboding to begin with, those evil eyes on the purple background, then goes in to the fun, upbeat tune that we would expect. It’s a theme song that feels dynamic and interesting to listen to, and the title sequence is edited in a way that gives it real movement.

5. The 13 Ghosts of Scooby-Doo (1985)

This is one of the only theme songs on the list that is genuinely slightly creepy. That’s what a Vincent Price voiceover will do to you, I suppose. It has a very different vibe from so many of its predecessors, presumably because it is the first Scooby-Doo series to follow some kind of multi-episode arc. On the whole, it’s very good fun and really reflects a different kind of Scooby-Doo to what we have seen in the past.

4. Scooby-Doo: Mystery Incorporated (2010-2013)

Speaking of different kind of Scooby-Doo, this theme song is one that truly encompasses the vibe of the show. It demonstrates the older-child targeted audience of this particular series and the over-arching mystery elements. As a child, this was probably one of my earliest introductions to more complex storytelling, and the futuristic yet upbeat music encapsulates the darker aspects that would be seen in the series.

3. The Scooby-Doo Show (1976-1978)

Everything about this theme song is quintessentially classic Scooby-Doo. It demonstrates their recurring gags, it shows some of the fun and frightening monsters and those opening seconds just transport me straight back to being a child. I simply adore these opening titles, though that may be a little bit because this series is also one of my favourite iterations of the show. What can I say? I’m only human, and humans have our biases. This is mine.

2. Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! (1969-1978)

The opening titles to the original Scooby-Doo series are truly iconic. The spooky opening juxtaposed with the upbeat nature of the music is just so perfect in marrying the mystery and comedy elements of the programme. I also have to point out that so many of the monsters in this series I found genuinely frightening, and a few of them are featured in the title sequence. As a child, I found this incredibly frightening, but as an adult I am obsessed.

1. What’s New Scooby-Doo? (2002-2006)

Every single 2000s kid adores this iteration of Scooby-Doo (especially the theme song), myself included. The beginning of the titles mirrors that of the original series, with the spooky house and the bats, and it goes on to the coolest pop-punk vibes, courtesy of Simple Plan. I find these titles completely faultless: they’re fun; they give all the characters a little moment; the animation style is lovely to look at; and the music, as I have mentioned, is amazing to listen to. There’s nothing else I can say other than it absolutely slaps.

With that, my list is complete. If anybody asks what I have been doing with my time, I probably should not say that it was this, but I will anyway. I have spent far too much time on this one. Still, I hope you appreciate my efforts; if you disagree with any of my thoughts, please do let me know.

~ Caelum

Another Series of Inside No. 9 Just Ended…So I’m Back

Series 7 of Inside No. 9 aired its series finale on Wednesday of this week, which means I have an excuse to write more about my favourite show. I’ve noticed a lot of mixed opinions on some of the episodes, but as someone who is pretty content to just trust the writing I think that usually lets me be pretty satisfied by the end of each episode. I never try and build expectations ahead of time, so I have yet to be thoroughly disappointed by the BAFTA winning anthology series.

Without further ado, let’s get into this. Fair warning: there will be spoilers.

1. Merrily, Merrily

My favourite episode of series 7 is easily this one. It is quintessential Inside No. 9 with a wonderful emotional core so stunningly portrayed by Reece Shearsmith, Steve Pemberton and guest star/long-time friend Mark Gatiss. It’s a story about people who have gone their separate ways, reuniting on a pedalo. Not a sentence I expected to write. With both Pemberton and other guest Diane Morgan providing a lot of the comic relief, the whole episode has the comedy and the drama that is advertised. There is a beautiful exploration of grief and nostalgia that, by the end of the episode, made me feel completely at peace. That feeling will not last for the rest of the series.

2. Mr. King

It took a long time for me to understand what was happening in this episode. This is the masterful writing we come to expect from the Shearsmith and Pemberton team, as they do such a wonderful job of burying the lede. When I realised that this was a Wicker Man thing, I was delighted. I know that’s a favourite horror film of both of the writers, and it’s one of mine too. Admittedly, it’s also one of the most disturbing episode of the series, and it’s probably not one I’ll be rewatching any time soon, but I have a fondness for it in the same way I have a fondness of The Riddle of the Sphinx. It’s wild, I love it.

3. Nine Lives Kat

This is an episode for the writers in the room. The revisiting of drafts, the battling with clichés, and the genuine guilt some people have when they leave a character behind. With Pemberton as the omnipresent writer, whose place in the story is difficult to really figure out until about halfway through the episode, it’s a sort of trippy experience with a kind of horror/thriller vibe to it. One thing I noticed about the whole series was that there was a theme of playing around with the format of storytelling, layering of elements that are not always messed around with in a lot of TV shows. It makes me happy to see the risks taken in this series, which we will get further into in the series finale…

4. Kid/Nap

It’s time to talk about my passion: directing. I love the parallels made through split-screens across the course of the episode. There is, once again, the brilliant marrying of the manipulation of perspectives in both the writing and the directing of this episode, which I think is epitomised here. So many twists and turns appear in this one, giving the impression of your classic crime drama with the trademark silly humour that we saw in Wuthering Heist in series 6. Also Jason Isaacs is there, and if Lucius Malfoy can’t convince you this episode is excellent, then I don’t really know what can.

5. A Random Act of Kindness

This episode reminded me that I never trust Steve Pemberton’s characters. There’s almost always something going on in the background with them. Stylistically, I loved A Random Act of Kindness, there was this cheesiness to the way that the future and the present were set against each other. To me, it read as a love letter to all of the depictions of the future in other time-travel based media, with clean modernism and lasers being all over the place in the denouement. Jessica Hynes and Noah Valentine have wonderful on-screen chemistry too, as the mother and son central to the plot, and it’s clear from the writing that both Pemberton and Shearsmith are fathers of teenagers. Admittedly, this one took me a while to understand but when I worked it out, I really appreciated the construction of the narrative.

6. Wise Owl

Before I watched this episode, my friend (who caught it before me) offered me a content warning. I said no, but having watched it I can see why they offered. The mix of the childlike animation that can be seen in Public Service Announcements aimed at young audiences and the live action elements we usually see were so wonderfully unsettling. Also present were elements that made me think someone had recently watched Donnie Darko and a hell of a lot of taxidermy, making for an overall vibe that had me on the edge of my seat. Reece Shearsmith does most of the heavy lifting in the acting for this episode and is, as always, incredibly compelling to watch, as I found myself rooting for his character to stab his father once I understood the narrative. The ending was incredibly satisfying, and I was so pleased as the character of Ronnie walked away. It was haunting.

That is a wrap for me on this series. My top two episodes for series 7 are absolutely Merrily, Merrily and Wise Owl, both of which had new directors to the series at the helm with Al Campbell and Louise Hooper. While I would love to see Guillem Morales return to direct other episode in the two new series that have been commissioned(!!!) it’s nice to see some new faces. It really gives each episode that self-contained flavour. On the whole, I think Inside No. 9 is going from strength to strength and I will be eagerly anticipating series 8.

~Caelum

The Murder of ‘Death on the Nile’

I am one of the world’s biggest Agatha Christie fans. I have read one hell of a lot of her Poirot and Miss Marple novels and short stories, and seen every single episode of the ITV adaptations of her books. It’s one of the things both my mum and I share a genuine passion for, and we are not easy to please. We were both concerned when we found out Kenneth Branagh was directing an adaptation of Murder on the Orient Express and playing the iconic Hercule Poirot. Though neither of us particularly cared for the 2017 adaptation, it was Branagh’s performance as Poirot that we found most egregious. But the problems of Murder on the Orient Express (2017) pale in comparison to the insult to my intelligence that was Death on the Nile (2022). While I wasn’t terribly offended the whole time, there were many directorial, character and story choices that genuinely made me pause the film and walk around in circles so that I could work off the anger. And now here I am, writing my first review that isn’t generally positive. 

I need to start with my Poirot problems. I respect Kenneth Branagh as an actor and director greatly, and I particularly enjoyed him as Iago in Othello (1995), but as Poirot he left a lot to be desired. The moustache was wrong. While it may seem petty to say such a thing, the books generally gave a very specific explanation of what Poirot looked like right down to his moustache, which is described as being very stiff and military. I tend to have a lot of room for artistic licence, however, in a film, but when Death on the Nile spent a solid ten minutes of screentime providing a backstory to said moustache, then we may start to have a problem. Especially as the backstory to the moustache makes absolutely no sense. Foremost, the backstory given to Poirot being that he was in the war (which he wasn’t in the novels, nor in any other adaptation to my knowledge) does not square as well with him becoming a private detective as the original story that he was in the Belgian police force. It makes even less sense if we consider his connections to policing that are integral in various other plots. But the bigger problem is the idea that Poirot grew his moustache in order to cover large facial scarring sustained from a bomb in World War One. Which isn’t possible with the scarring presented at the start of the film. More problematic is the fact that said scarring, that reached all the way up the side of Poirot’s face in the flashback, could not be covered by a moustache, even if it were possible for him to grow one. As far as I was concerned, this entire flashback was a total waste of time, as the point of introducing a former love interest of Poirot feels like it was shoehorned into a story about magically sustainable hair follicles. 

Moustache aside, I have other problems with the general characterisation of Hercule Poirot. Largely the point of Poirot is that he is both pompous and charming, which was brilliantly portrayed and understood by David Suchet when he played the character in the ITV series. Branagh made him far more irritating and far less considered, with Poirot jumping to conclusions very quickly and taking a rather ham-fisted approach to interrogating suspects that just made him come across as a bit arsey. Not to mention the fact that there was a clear attempt by screenwriter Michael Green to inject some humanity into this version with the moments of vulnerability in his lost love that just came off as though there were two totally different characters. Part of the genius of Poirot was that he was able to put suspects at ease to gain information, and would make subtle observations that an audience could use to draw their own conclusions. But you know, Branagh runs around with a gun for a bit. It’s fair to say some of the nuance has been lost. I want to make it clear that an actor is free to make their own character choices, but I argue that in an adaptation loyalty to the source material matters as much as it matters to the audience. And for a lot of people, it matters.

That last part is quite important for the next section, because I have some story choices to discuss. The characters chosen to merge or omit are a strange selection. The central three stay the same: Linnet Doyle (neé Ridgeway), Simon Doyle and Jacqueline de Bellefort. Novelist Salome Otterbourne is now a jazz singer, managed by her niece Rosalie Otterbourne who is an old school friend of Linnet Doyle. Considering that if Linnet and Rosalie were at school together it would have been during the height of segregation and Rosalie is African American I have some questions about the backstory. Of course, had Green stuck to the original story of almost all passengers aboard the steamer on the Nile being strangers, this problem would not have existed, and would have added an extra layer of intrigue when the idea that Jacqueline is the prime suspect initially gets ruled out. Of course, this probably would have required taking out the moustache backstory that clearly added so much to the plot. Please note my sarcasm. 

Similarly, the character of Bouc takes the place of Colonel Race in the novel and is also the third murder victim instead of Salome Otterbourne. While I don’t mind the second change, I personally think that the neutral other party in Colonel Race would have been a useful tool to really get the most out of the murder mystery. You know, the thing this is meant to be. Instead, we have a new reason for Poirot to be on the boat in the first place, in that he is following Bouc’s love interest Rosalie Otterbourne at the request of Bouc’s mother, Euphemia. My problem with this is the fact that Poirot would never do such petty private detective work; he thought himself above such things, notwithstanding the fact that it was morally reprehensible. This is yet another case of the character of Poirot being taken in a direction that he didn’t need to go in, making him more annoying than he is likeable. 

Moving on, I have several questions about Russell Brand’s casting. His character is Dr. Linus Windlesham, an amalgamation of the characters of Dr Bessner and secret Lord and not-so-secret communist Mr Ferguson. Of those two characters, I would be more inclined to cast Brand as something closer to Mr Ferguson than Dr Bessner, because though I love him as a stand-up comedian we can both agree that he has minimal acting range. His accent also leaves a lot to be desired, something clearly noticed by someone in production that resulted in his part being cut down to something almost unnoticeable. It’s a real shame, since it seems two interesting characters were merged to create a sort of nothing, because Brand can’t do any accent other than his own for an extended period of time. I mean, neither can I, but I think there was a way around the issue rather than just minimising his speech. There’s something slightly tragic about the moments where it looks like he’s about to say something and it cuts away. 

Among the positives for Death on the Nile (2022) were some of the directing choices. Most notably for me was the scene where Jacqueline de Bellefort arrives at the hotel in Egypt. Emma Mackey, dressed in a stunning red gown, shot from above, enters the scene as the scarlet woman. The symbolism of the dress being that she is scorned, and she is out to make life hell for Linnet. She means revenge. Similarly, many of the shots on the Nile are brilliantly framed, with the light of a sunset or simply the lamps on the boat in the darkness being other highlights for me. The bulk of the plot was also reasonably accurate to the book, though the pacing was very odd at times. 

I am led quite nicely on to the petty things. Sometimes when you watch a film, there are moments that don’t make sense if you think about them too much, but you let them go if you still care for the overall quality of the story. Unfortunately, if the fundamentals feel a bit rubbish then the petty things just seem so much worse. While I have already discussed the scar tissue/moustache situation, the other issue that struck me was an early scene in the jazz club. Salome plays an electric guitar that is not plugged in, though it is plugged in when she gets to the stage after walking across the dancefloor with it. It’s a minor continuity error that I could forgive if the shot was nice enough to warrant it, but personally I would have scrapped it as unnecessary. I also had a few problems with costuming and general accuracy of behaviour to the time period. Some of the characters wore outfits or hairstyles that just would not have been in fashion at the time, such as Bouc’s weird pink mac that had a long zip. Someone more qualified than me would, however, be able to look at this in more detail, but I’m also reasonably certain that no self-respecting woman in the 1920s/1930s would be as laissez-faire about discussing or at one point having sex in public as Linnet, Simon, and Jacqueline were. I’m all for sexual liberation, but I feel it’s quite strange in an Agatha Christie adaptation.

In case you thought I couldn’t get even more petty, there is a moment where both Poirot and Bouc are interrogating a suspect, Andrew Katchadourian, and they are circling him. I’m reasonably certain Branagh has a bit of a thing about circles, as similar shots crop up throughout the film, but this moment was really quite odd. It occurred to me while I was watching it that Kenneth Branagh and Tom Bateman (Bouc) were making Ali Fazal turn around on the spot in order to continue looking at them. I’m not sure whether the goal was to make him so dizzy he accidentally confessed, or if it was a protection thing as the next time someone is being interrogated in a room of three, they get shot in the neck while they’re all sat down. Either way, I’ve been laughing about it for days. The other logistical problem is when the murderers are discovered to be Simon Doyle and Jacqueline de Bellefort. While hugging Simon, Jacqueline shoots them both through his back and both lean haphazardly on a bar stool. I am impressed that two dead people are so capable of holding themselves up without falling.

Arguably, Branagh’s Poirot was fighting a losing battle with me. I will maintain for the rest of my life that David Suchet showed an understanding of the character that I have never seen in any other adaptation, while there were points I had to question if Branagh had even read the book. I’m disturbed to see that there are other potential adaptations in the works and if the decline in quality from Murder on the Orient Express to Death on the Nile is anything to go by, I think my head might explode with the next one. I would be far happier if the tone of the books was captured in new adaptations, as I feel like this fundamental misunderstanding of the stories really robs them of their fun.

~Caelum

‘This Is Going To Hurt’ Kind of Hurts

When my dad asked why I didn’t become a doctor, I had quite a long list of responses. The most important ones were: hatred of blood; bad at science; generally incompetent; and recently read Adam Kay’s book This Is Going To Hurt. Once I had read that book, I was convinced that I do not have what it takes to work in the NHS and it really upped my level of respect for everyone who chooses to work in such a high-pressure environment. I also knew that This Is Going To Hurt was going to be my new favourite book. It still is. I’ve reread it countless times, along with Twas The Nightshift Before Christmas, and got to see Adam Kay’s live tour. It’s safe to say that I’m something of a fan, so when the TV series based on Kay’s first book was announced I was pretty excited. Well, the first episode was on this week, so here I am.

The first thing I have to bring up is just how lovely Ben Whishaw is as Adam. I don’t think I have to go on about what a brilliant actor he is, but I do want to mention how great the rest of the cast are as well. There’s dialogue and scenes throughout that I recognise from the book, and the whole cast brings the stories to life so effectively. I need to mention the utterly charming work of Rory Fleck Byrne as Harry, Adam’s partner. He comes across as so funny and sweet, though I might just be saying that because I am easily seduced by a nice Irish accent. I also need to mention how much I love seeing a gay relationship on screen and have it not be the cause of the central conflict. While it is likely that there will be some conflict surrounding Adam’s sexuality in the show, as he is shown to not be openly gay at work and with family, the main focus is on the difficult job of an NHS doctor. 

In most circumstances I am critical of a lot of book to screen changes that happen in film or TV adaptations, but I really can’t be with This Is Going To Hurt. It could not be the case that every single section of the book would make it on screen, that’s effectively an audiobook with a visual. That being said, I do think some of the changes made may have come at the cost of the characterisation of Adam. Most notably in the first episode, the preeclampsia patient also being one with ridiculous symptoms that result in TV Adam missing her diagnosis might diminish some of the sympathy viewers have for the character. Moreover, his behaviour towards SHO Shruti has been described by some as off-putting. I wholeheartedly disagree that a less sympathetic Adam makes for a worse viewing experience. Ultimately, the show is giving a painfully realistic view of working in the NHS and one of the integral parts of the real world is that sometimes people behave badly. They make mistakes, they’re rude, they’re dismissive and it’s not good, but it is human. I think that’s what real life Kay was trying to get across here. People are unlikeable, but that does not mean they’re fundamentally bad people, and I think that’s important to remember when watching this show. 

The book was funnier than it was dramatic and the show flips that on its head. The emotional core of the TV show is important, and although the book had its moments of genuinely sad stories, the TV show makes that the focus. I absolutely do not not think this is a bad thing, it’s just different. It’s safe to say that with the praise I have heaped on This Is Going To Hurt throughout this review, I will absolutely be watching the rest of the series. I wasn’t sure how the book would adapt, but it’s done incredibly well, probably due to the presence of real Adam Kay as the writer of the series. I am so excited to see how the show develops, and I might reread the books again for kicks. Might as well get my money’s worth out of all the copies I own. 

~Caelum

Nightmare Alley: A Woefully Under-appreciated Masterpiece

In looking up times for Sing 2 to go to with my mum, I stumbled across the last two showings in my local cinema of Nightmare Alley. Although I hadn’t seen much advertising for Guillermo del Toro’s latest feature, the little bits I had seen were utterly compelling. A neo-noir thriller based on a 1946 novel is exactly the sort of thing that I live for. My mother was less excited about it, but she booked the tickets anyway. It was only by chance that I stumbled upon this film while watching The Film Review, it was so severely lacking in advertisement. Still, with a central cast of Bradley Cooper, Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara, I felt reasonably confident that I was in for a treat. 

I’ll just come right out and say it: I found Nightmare Alley an incredibly tense watch and I am unlikely to revisit it any time soon. That’s not to say I didn’t like the film, I thought it was excellent. There are, however, several scenes that require a strong stomach in order to get through them. It’s not something I would describe as “fun”. Entertaining? Yes. Visually strong? Yes. Utterly gripping? Yes. Fun? Absolutely not. This is so quintessentially a psychological thriller. The story is meandering in its pace, but delivers with big moments. As a result, I was glued to my seat, waiting for reveals, fights, cathartic resolutions. I got them, and they were good. The shadowy past of protagonist Stanton Carlisle is revealed to us agonisingly slowly, and I could never quite decide how I felt about him. Bradley Cooper is such a charming presence and perfectly encapsulates Stanton’s complex character, while the chemistry between Cooper and Cate Blanchett on screen is utterly electric. 

A moment must be dedicated to the visuals. I’m a huge fan of del Toro’s directing (though controversially I wasn’t a huge fan of The Shape of Water) and Nightmare Alley has just cemented that love further. The 1939 setting is indicated through everything from the decor, to the costumes and even the scene transitions have something very Art Deco about them. It’s easy for a thriller such as this to come across as tacky in some way, but so many of the scenes just ooze realism. The clearest example of this is in the office of Blanchett’s Lilith Ritter. Scenes there were like being teleported into another world: one even more sinister than we came from. The warmness of the lighting in the daytime compared with the cool nighttime scenes, with the pathetic fallacy of the rain and the snow in the moments of turmoil and unrest are just some of the ways in which del Toro masters visual storytelling in this film. 

Overall, Nightmare Alley is a masterclass in visuals and storytelling. It represents exactly what I love about film: I was transported to another world in which I was scrambling for character backstories and motivations, trying to work out what was going on before I was told. Of course, I wasn’t quite sharp enough to reach most of the conclusions but that’s beside the point. While there were certainly parts that I would actually quite like to erase from my memory (the man eating a live chicken and Bradley Cooper picking bits of nose and teeth out of his knuckles will be forever etched in my brain) Nightmare Alley is an absolute masterpiece, and I’m only sad that so few people know about it.

Ghosts Brings the Christmas Cheer

I’ve already made it abundantly clear that Ghosts is a sitcom that I believe recaptures the energy of the alternative comedy scene in the 80s and 90s, which is a time period home to some of my all time favourite comedies. As such, the Ghosts Christmas special is one that was hotly anticipated in my house (I threatened to throw any phone that rang when we were watching it out of a window). Happily, I was not disappointed – and the phone didn’t ring.

After last year’s special, I had high expectations for another warm and fuzzy 30 minutes. There are three plots: Alison is painting Thomas’ portrait as a Christmas present; there is a homeless veteran in the garden; and there is some backstory for Lady Button. Thomas’ story serves as the subplot, while the other two stories intertwine with one another. Lady Button (rather unexpectedly) sympathises with the homeless man, Nicholas, and we learn why through a series of flashbacks in which Jennifer Saunders plays Fanny’s mother. Yes, I have been resisting writing the name Fanny since I started this. 

It’s a sympathetic story for Fanny, as her empathetic side emerges. Moreover, we find out she was a pretty badass mathematician who was held back by her position as a young woman. It adds an extra layer of sadness to her arc, as the bitterness the character holds from her murder at the hands of her husband is accompanied by a feeling of lost potential. Howe-Douglas plays Fanny’s uptight attitude so perfectly, it comes as a real surprise when we get these glimpses into who she was and who she could have been. Lady Button is a slow-burn character, as at first she isn’t particularly likeable but as the series have progressed she has become more complex and more interesting. ‘He Came!’ adds to this. 

Moving to Alison and Mike, they debate how to deal with Nicholas’ presence, as they cannot decide whether to let him stay for a while or to report him to the police as a trespasser. Cue a good ten minutes of me yelling “let him stay!” at my television. When everyone’s favourite Tory Julian sends the report to the council, they feel so guilty they comb homeless shelters to find Nicholas and apologise. They end up hosting Christmas dinner for the homeless at Button House, sacrificing their “quiet Cooper Christmas”. It’s a nice gesture, made even sweeter by the fact that Nicholas returns and accepts the apology (and saves the dinner). 

Although it’s a cliché message, it is a heartwarming story of kindness and altruism. Summed up in Kitty’s childlike joy at Nicholas’ striking similarity to Santa is the lovely, warm feeling that can only be found in a well constructed sitcom special. I only hope we get another special next year.

~ Caelum

Next Up: 25 Horror Films For The Non-Horror Fan

The Goes Wrong Show is So Very Right

In December 2017, my Dad and I were struggling to find something to watch, wading through Christmas specials of game shows we mutually agreed to be drivel, we came across A Christmas Carol Goes Wrong. For me, that was the start of a love affair with the incredible Mischief Theatre Company, as I watched the first series of The Goes Wrong Show and loved every single second of it. There’s something beautiful about the style of comedy in The Goes Wrong Show; it’s classic farce done for a modern audience and the second series was no less impressive.

The first episode was ‘Summer Once Again’, with the usual character we see as director, Chris Bean being taken down in a coup, this production was led by new director Robert Grove. The main joke of the episode is Henry Lewis’ Robert insisting on restarting the play three times, with the number of slip-ups increasing every time. To finish the episode, we get the whole cast speedrunning the plot, with lines delivered at tongue-twister speed. I was pleased to see the return of the running joke that Jonathan (Greg Tannahill) can never get into a scene, this time being cut off right before he gets the chance to speak. Don’t worry, we will see more of him later.

‘The Most Lamentable Tragedy of the Prince of England and his Long Lost Twin Brother, Prince Regent of France and the Problems Therein Experienced by All When They Came to Know of One Another after a Battle’ is the name of the second episode. Please appreciate the fact that I wrote that out. It’s a play by Shakespeare (Colin Shakespeare, that is) and sees some brilliant old English employed by the actors as they battle with the good old-fashioned flubbed lines, malfunctioning props, and the general incompetence we all know and love with the Cornley Polytechnic Drama Society. From Robert Grove’s constant attempts to make the trumpeter relevant; to Dennis improvising about bedding poultry; to the line “where be my man penis?” which I will be quoting for the rest of my life; ‘The Most Lamentable…’ is one of my favourite episodes of the series.

Episode three: ‘There Is No Escape’. There’s an obvious joke there and they made it, and I don’t begrudge Mischief that. The standouts of the episode for me were Dave Hearn as Max and Bryony Corrigan’s Vanessa playing their parts impeccably. Some of their lines are just delivered so perfectly, they will stick with me. We also get the return of the Cornley set mishaps, as the sets are lowered into frame: barely functioning and not usually the right ones. I have far less to say about this episode as it’s just a lot of fun, and it’s quite hard to find lots of things to say about something so stellar. 

There’s a change of pace for the last two episodes of the series when we get ‘The Cornely Drama Festival’, separated into two parts. I must admit, the first part was not my favourite though that is not to say that it wasn’t its own kind of excellent. Max is the hero of the episode for me, as his kitchen sink drama is painfully adorable, as are the attempts at improv. Part two, meanwhile, has all of my favourite jokes. I hope everyone reading this hears the word incompetent and knows exactly what I’m talking about. Or you know…Incompententente.

The Goes Wrong Show can be best described as good, wholesome fun. I would highly recommend that anyone in need of a good laugh should watch the show, because it is honestly one of my favourite things in the world. So, you know. If you value my opinion like that, recommend it to your friends and family!

~Caelum

Next Up: The Best Episode of Friday Night Dinner