Good Friday in Sydney is quiet; offices shut, shopping malls closed (in the case of the Broadway Westfield, padlocked - of all the old-fashioned technologies to use - at one entrance), light traffic on the roads and comparatively easy parking. Spike had an afternoon's work at the Glass Artist's Gallery in Glebe so I went to Hoyts adjacent to the padlocked shopping mall. I arrived just in time for
Wrath of the Titans 3D to be the only option that didn't require me to wait an hour in the lobby so I paid my money and entered the cinema with a bottle of water, bag of crisps and a pair of 3D specs that might have fitted a teenager.
What can I say? WOTT is less tedious than COTT. It takes itself far less seriously so the light smattering of humour worked well enough. It is silliness on a stick, of course. But that's not necessarily a bad status to aim for, so long as there is fun along the way. There wasn't quite enough fun for my tastes while there was way, way too much hand-held camera, in the thick of the action cliche that's well past its sell-by date. There is a bit of me thinks that if you're going to enter the territory of the epic tale with gods, demi-gods and heroes on winged horses you have to commit yourself totally: step through the magical portal, suspend our disbelief and step back, impress us with the magnitude, epic qualities of an epic tale. Close up and personal doesn't quite cut the mustard. All the same, I've seen worse. And it seemed mercifully short, which was just as well.
I was back in the foyer by 2:20, close to four hours still to go so I searched Glee Books (without success) for a copy of
LA Confidential then returned to Hoyts. My second choice was John Madden's
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, which was sweet (but mercifully not too sweet), gently funny, genuinely poignant at points and not too heavily laden with the lessons and wisdom we may acquire with age. The cream of British acting talent of a certain age performed impeccably - I could watch Tom Wilkinson in anything (he is truly great at understatement, which makes his rare outburst of passion always more thrilling) and Judi Dench was, well ... Judi Dench. Maggie Smith, simply flawless (even though her narrative journey was implausible to the point of being fanciful). Dev Patel gave a truly engaging performance, perhaps the standout of the piece (given those he was in the mix with). He's clearly been learning his craft since
Slumdog shot him to fame.
I was particularly amused at the coincidence of my choices that put the irrepressible Bill Nighy in both movies as the barking mad, brilliant and brave Haphaestus in WOTT and the hapless Douglas in TBEMH. He was terrific value in both, possibly the best thing about WOTT and triumphant in a worm that turned kind of way in TBEMH. Either way, worth his weight in gold.
All in all, an enjoyable Friday afternoon followed by cocktails and nibbles (rather more than that to be fair) at the excellent, friendly
The Little Guy in Glebe Point Road.
