The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry

 I had seen the trailer for this film so many times beforehand that I wasn't expecting any surprises.  And that proved to be the case.  It is emotionally manipulative, frequently predictable, requires considerable suspension of disbelief, and the ending is curiously unresolved.  All of which sounds like the preface to a very negative review, but I have to admit loved it, with the tears in my eyes a positive response.  

The movie is largely redeemed by two elements.  Firstly, at a time when the current tory government is busy turning the UK into a right wing dystopian shithole, it offers hope, or at least an upbeat view of the human condition.  Secondly, and much more predictably, it stars Jim Broadbent.

The premise is a simple one.  Harold (Broadbent) and Maureen (Penelope Wilton) are long retired, long suffering, existing in a marriage that has lost the ability to communicate (we know all this very quickly, despite little being said).  He receives a letter from an old colleague, Queenie Hennessy, telling him she is dying in a hospice in Berwick-upon-Tweed, hundreds of miles from his home in south Devon.   I going to post a reply he finds a chance remark from a shop assistant changing in his mind.  The letter wouldn't be enough to make up for what he'd done to Queenie, it needs more than that.  And Harold, who feels he's failed everyone and has never achieved anything in his life, decides to change that.  So he starts walking.  To the hospice.  With no preparation, no experience of walking any distance, and no notice to the bewildered Maureen, Mr Fry begins his pilgrimage, determined to walk all the way to save Queenie.

Along the way he meets many people, some help him, others he gives help to, at times it works both ways.  A pub photo and social media turn him into a celebrity, and others join the pilgrimage.  All that matters to everyone is Harold's (non religious) faith, his belief that if he keeps walking then Queenie will stay alive.  Along the way a series of flashbacks explains something of the reasons for his sense of failure, both in relation to Queenie and to the son he feels he let down so badly.  

A few of these encounters and characters are ill-judged, others add to learning more about the man Harold is.  As I said before, the ending really doesn't give us much.  And yet that doesn't matter.  Harold Fry is telling us is that trying, with a bit of faith in yourself, is often enough, whatever the outcome.  

Wilton is excellent with what she's given, which isn't nearly enough, and there could have been more to Queenie's story.  But none of this seems important beside Broadbent's performance.  Always reliable, this is one of his best.  Go and see Harold Fry.  Don't expect too much from the script, enjoy some stunning views, and marvel at the greatness of Jim.  Oh, and be prepared to cry a bit...

Allelujah

 A script adapted from an Alan Bennett play and a stellar cast of weel kent faces promises more than this film is able to deliver, but there's still plenty to entertain and an important message to deliver.  Even if the latter comes through with mixed messages and a heavy handed Coda.

The Bethelem Hospital, aka The Beth, is a much loved local hospital in Yorkshire, now used solely for geriatric patients too unwell for care homes.  It's under threat of closure by the tory government, so volunteers are busy fund raising, and a film crew are visiting to talk to staff and patients for a documentary.  The health minister has sent up one of his management consultants to finalise the report that will authorise closure, but he's also visiting his dad who's been taken in there.

For all the threat hanging over it, the place doesn't feel in crisis, the staff not overstretched, so it's not quite the real world.  Making up for that is a script with some classic Bennett lines, and a great central performance from Jennifer Saunders as the dedicated Ward sister who's given her life to The Beth.  It's a generally heart warming affair, full of stereotypes, but with a lot of fun to be had.  As the end nears it feels like we're heading for feelgood territory with the evil consultant (Russell Tovey) heading for an epiphany that will bring change for the better.

But it doesn't all work out that way, and the plot twist reveals both the best and the worst of the NHS.  That worst doesn't stop this being a reminder of just how important the NHS is in our society, and how it's interweaving links affect so much of our lives.  If the final polemic feels clumsy and out of place that may be no bad thing.  The health service is in crisis, largely because that's exactly what this cruel government wants it to be.  It gives them their excuse to make it all about money, something Tovey's character makes all too clear.  

As a movie Allelujah falls short in many ways.  As a timely reminder of where we are, it hits the mark with a sledgehammer blow.

The Spark (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

 There's a clue in the set.  The audience walks in to chaos - tables and chairs hung from above, a chair lying sideways on the floor, the contents of a bag fanned out where they fell, a pair of black stilettos.  Someone's life is a mess. 

The someone is Robin (Nicole Cooper), recently appointed Transport Ministry in the Scottish Government, and she's experiencing some curious symptoms.  Maggie (Beth Marshall), her overworked GP, says such things are normal when women become perimenopausal, James (Johnny Panchaud) thinks she's not quite rational, isn't listening to him and taking his valuable advice/instruction.  Robin is in politics to bring about change, but this wasn't a change she was anticipating. 

To be herself, both as a politician and a woman, Robin is having to fight.  Advisers, the medical profession and her own party colleagues all want to tell her what to do.  But Robin knows what she wants to do, to say, and how to say it.  And suddenly these unexpected 'symptoms' offer the chance to be someone she wasn't before.  Will the powers that be allow it though? 

The Spark is a fast paced comedy of miscommunication, misogyny and missed opportunities.  Can politicians ever really make a difference?  Especially when women aren't listened to?  Three excellent interweaving performances, with Cooper at the centre of the confusion, leave the audience grasping at the straws of contemporary politics.  It sometimes goes a bit heavy handed on the metaphor side of things, but never ceases to be entertaining.  An enjoyable end to the PPP season.