Executioner review – sleazy MP hams it up with sex worker in darkly comic blackmail thriller

Based on actor-director Peter Benedict’s own play this tiny-budget thriller has the feel of a stagey recording as the double-crosses pile up higher than an MP’s promises The fictional shadow cabinet minister at the centre of this darkly comic blackmail thriller is offended when the male prostitute he has hired describes his reputation as “colourful”. Colourful MPs support bloodsports and wear bow ties, he says; he prefers the term “maverick”. It’s never said out loud, but clearly he sits on the right in political terms; you can tell from the sneer in his voice as he utters the word “proletariat”. Executioner is adapted by Peter Benedict from his play Deadlock, with a staginess that feels a bit much for the screen. Benedict also co-directs and stars as the MP, called Robert Marlowe, giving a lip-smacking performance that makes Hannibal Lecter look like a character from kitchen sink realism. The entire film is set in the basement studio of Marlowe’s country pile, where he dabbles in pott...

Harder Than the Rock review – reggae’s unsung heroes finally get their moment

Cimarons, the UK’s first reggae band, played with Jimmy Cliff and Bob Marley but barely made a penny; this heartwarming film follows their first gig in 30 years

The UK’s first reggae band deserves all the love and attention coming their way with the release of this documentary. It’s the untold story of Cimarons, and begins in 1967 at a bus stop in London’s Harlesden where two Jamaican-born Londoners, Locksley Gichie and Franklyn Dunn, met and formed a band. By the end of the decade Cimarons would become the go-to backing group for Jamaican artists touring the UK, playing with the likes of Jimmy Cliff and Bob Marley. The band recorded albums of their own, worked as session musicians for Trojan records and toured with the Clash and the Jam. “They were the spark that started a big flame” is how MC General Levy describes their influence. But they barely made a penny out of music. Today, the band’s singer Michael Arkk works as an officer cleaner. How did Cimarons become reggae’s forgotten heroes?

Partly it comes down to choices. The band never hired professional management. They were in it for the music, touring in a clapped-out van with no heating and broken windscreen wipers. They called themselves Cimarons after a TV western, and only later found out it meant “wild and free”. The name fits.

Continue reading...

from Film | The Guardian https://ift.tt/5bBo4n8
via IFTTT

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Miracle Club review – Maggie Smith can’t save this rocky road trip to Lourdes

‘I lost a friend of almost 40 years’: Nancy Meyers pays tribute to Diane Keaton

Malaika Arora scolds 16-year-old dancer for inappropriate gestures: “He is winking, giving flying kisses”