What happened to the Rishi Sunak I knew at school?
Ms Peake plays Vanetia, who has bright-red curly hair, and who is optimistic, vivacious, fun-loving, sexy but who is also rebuilding her world after her carpenter husband Conor (Edward MacLiam) has suffered a stroke. Conor is not as he was, as shown by brief flashbacks to earlier moments in the marriage. Conor is still physically able, but is confused, irrational, can’t connect emotionally to anything but animals (terrific scene when they take him to the zoo; hilarious), and where once he made highly sellable kitchen furniture, he now endlessly carves wooden spheres that are no good to anyone.
But Vanetia is not alone. She has their two children — a little girl and a tweenage boy who is working out his sexuality — and Ted. Ted (Will Forte…from Nebraska!) is an American neuropsychologist who is writing a book on post-stroke brains and who Vanetia has agreed can move in for a few months to study Conor. Ted is sad-eyed and shy, uptight and reserved, keen to keep his professional distance. But who can resist Vanetia’s big-heartedness? They share a joint. They share a night-time bike ride. They may share a kiss. So this is also a romance (of sorts), but will it ever be consummated? Not going to divulge that, but I can tell you it’s complicated. And messy. And there are no easy answers. So, quite like life, in fact.
Directed by Steph Green (whose 2009 short, New Boy, was nominated for an Oscar) and written by Green and Ailbhe Keogan, this is all told in small details: Vanetia attempting ‘laughter yoga’ and making clown faces at herself in the car mirror tells us all about her underlying despair; the way Ted lays out his pens tells us all about how buttoned-up he generally is; Conor carving a wooden spoon into a hand, with which he can then touch others, shows us he is still in there somewhere. I could go on and on. The film is these moments, strung together, and as held together by Ms Peake.
Ms Peake, who is described in one American review as a ‘veteran British actress’ — she’s 39, for Christ’s sake! — is charisma made flesh. Vanetia is grieving yet also hopeful, sometimes happy, sometimes not, sometimes angry, sometimes accepting, always fundamentally loving, and she is able to be all these things, separately, and together. She does a wonderful job (for a veteran) and even though the film’s purpose is never clear — is it: can you still love someone when they are not who they once were? — it does not matter. We like her so much, just being with her may be enough.
So, although I wouldn’t recommend swerving off-road all the time, as it can be risky — I’ve sat through some truly awful indie rubbish over the years — it can also pay off, as it did in this instance. Yay!
Dune: Part Two is not a sequel but a continuation of Dune, so picks up exactly at the point you’d started to wonder if it would ever end. All I can remember from the first film is sand, sand, so much sand, and it must get everywhere, and into your sandwiches. But it is set
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