Ride Along 2 – Film Review

At some point in the near future you might find yourself at a loose end and decide to while away the time by watching a movie. You may only have a couple of hours so The Hateful Eight will be too long, and maybe Spotlight is a bit too heavy and The Revenant just too exhausting to serve as a time killer; so instead you settle on Ride Along 2 and think, “Yeah, that’ll do”. While such a thought is perfectly acceptable of a casual moviegoer, the problem with this heartless, witless cop-comedy sequel is that all those involved in its making share the exact same attitude. Like the first Ride Along, this is a copy and paste comedy actioner, recycling tired buddy-cop tropes from similar movies and throwing them into this project unaltered. Occasionally, writers Phil Hay and Matt Manfredi throw in a half-hearted aside mocking their own predictability, but this is no sly attempt at subversion, merely a tacit admission of their own laziness.

Don’t believe me? Just look at the plot. Picking up shortly after the events of the first movie, we find Kevin Hart’s zealous Ben freshly graduated from the police academy and looking to follow in the footsteps of his soon-to-be brother-in-law James (Ice Cube), a hard-nosed detective for the Atlanta Police Department. When a drugs bust goes belly-up – thanks in no small part to Ben’s hapless undercover work – James is forced to take his pint sized partner on a road trip to Miami to track down violent drug lord Antonio Pope (Benjamin Bratt). For Ben it’s a chance to prove he has what it takes to stand alongside his role model; but for James, it’s just another opportunity to get rid of the motor-mouthed pest once and for all.

That’s right, it’s the exact same storyline as the first movie. Naturally, Hay and Manfredi have adhered to the standard sequel maxim of relocating the action to a more glamorous setting while returning director Tim Story has used an inflated budget to execute some even more bombastic set-pieces – the standout sequence seeing Ben channel Grand Theft Auto in order to evade a bunch of gun-toting gangsters during a high-speed pursuit. But, as countless movie sequels can attest, bigger doesn’t always mean better, and for all the extra change rattling around in its pockets Ride Along 2 still has the same fundamental problems.

Namely, it’s just not funny enough. Story and co aim to eek out the laughs from all the wacky scrapes our crime-fighting duo get themselves into through the own incompetence. Yet every set up fails to offer up anything we haven’t seen before. At one point Ben breaks into Pope’s heavily fortified mansion under strict instructions not to make a sound less he set-off the room’s audio alarm. Cue Kevin Hart’s bumbling rookie crashing into everything in and out of his path with all the stealth of a baby deer on roller-skates. It’s a scene we’ve seen played out countless times before and there are no surprises here to really tickle the funny bone.

The only thing preventing the movie from becoming a relentless bore is its well-matched stars. Hart’s frenetic flavour injects some much needed energy into proceedings, dancing through every scene like a jackrabbit hyped-up on jelly beans and fizzy pop. His spirited chemistry with Ice Cube’s seriously stony-faced James is Ride Along 2’s most entertaining factor, the pair’s brotherly exchanges generating the most laughs even though they lack the material to do it on a consistent enough basis.

They’re not exactly helped by a lacklustre supporting cast. Olivia Munn at least plays an active role in the investigation as James’ potential love interest, Homicide Detective Maya, which makes a welcome change from the series’ usual depiction of females as breasts with legs (see: Tika Sumpter’s house-bound fiancé). Meanwhile, Bratt’ Pope is a stock Bad Guy, coming complete with a catalogue of hackneyed threats and a goatee fit for machiavellian twirling, while the less said about Ken Jeong’s puerile hacker, the self-dubbed Bone Machine, the better.

Ride Along never aspired to be anything more than a low-watt 48hrs, but worked thanks to the freshness of Hart and Cube’s bickering double act and a steady supply of amusing gags. This hollow excuse for a follow-up can’t even boast that. The story is a string of hand-me-down plot points, the jokes are stale and the central dynamic has become too familiar to sustain a whole movie on its own. So if you do find yourself at a loose end this week, be sure to give Ride Along 2 a miss. Star Wars: The Force Awakens will probably still be playing, anyway.

Runtime: 102 mins; Genre: Action-Comedy; Released: 22 January 2016;

Director: Tim Story; Screenwriters: Phil Hay, Matt Manfredi;

Cast: Kevin Hart, Ice Cube, Olivia Munn, Benjamin Bratt

Click here to watch a trailer for Ride Along 2


The Revenant – Film Review

We’ve all heard by now the tales of the legendarily arduous shoot required to make The Revenant. By all accounts it was hellish: remote locations were exhaustively researched and then abandoned on a whim; actors were stretched to breaking point by conditions that plunged to minus 40; facilities were primitive; and many of the overworked crew reportedly downed tools as a result. But whatever struggles they endured were well worth it.

Alejandro Iñárritu’s latest is a brutally beautiful and relentlessly punishing tale of survival in the most harshly uncompromising of environments that tests the boundaries of what wonders old school filmmaking can produce.

Much like Iñárritu’s previous effort, last year’s superlative Birdman, The Revenant is a technical masterpiece. Shooting only in natural light and using only limited CGI, the director has captured the savagery and complexity of the frozen landscape in a way that feels palpably authentic. Like a mash-up of Apocalypse Now and Saving Private Ryan, long, unbroken close-ups are used to bring this nightmarish vision to life. At times the camera is so close the actor’s breath literally fogs the lens.

This is used to particularly visceral effect in the stunning scene where Leonardo DiCaprio’s protagonist, legendary frontiersman Hugo Glass, is mauled by a grizzly bear protecting its young cubs. As Glass is tossed around like a fleshy ragdoll, you’ll feel like you’re living every moment with him, such is the unflinching barbarity of Iñárritu’s direction.

Yet the film can also be captivatingly gorgeous. Like vintage Terrence Malick, still shots of babbling streams and frosted sunlight bursting through the foliage reveal the soul and serenity of the expansive terrain on which the cast find themselves marooned. This perfectly paced juxtaposition of beauty and brutality is at the heart of a story that lays bare the best and worst of humanity, highlighting how these traits often exist side-by-side.

Based on Michael Punke’s A Novel of Revenge, itself loosely drawn from true events, this is the story of Glass, a trapper who suffers the aforementioned bear battering while scouting through a forest. Honourable but weary Captain Henry (Domhnall Gleeson) leaves a badly injured Glass in the dubious care of the callous John Fitzgerald (played with grumbling menace by Tom Hardy) and Will Poulter’s weakly earnest Bridger, who promptly abandon him to die alone in the wilderness.

At this point the story switches into Bear Grylls meets Kill Bill mode as Glass claws his way out of the dirt and braves Arikara warriors, punishing blizzards and rotting wounds to track his party and exact revenge on those who done him wrong.

DiCaprio is at his ferocious best as Glass. In a role that’s largely unspoken, save for a few growled threats, DiCaprio conveys all his power and purpose through gaze alone, his eyes constantly ablaze with pain and intensity. It’s an imposing, bravura performance, and one that will surely bag the actor his first Oscar.

The Revenant’s only drawback is its patience-sapping 156-minute runtime. By striving for sprawling intimacy, intersecting Glass’ travails with those of his fellow explorers and of the natives hunting them down, Iñárritu has stretched a simple story beyond necessity. There are only so many times you can watch Glass drop to the floor in a fit of wheezing fever before your attention starts to wane.

But if you can endure the exhausting, viscerally charged journey, you’ll find this gruelling survival odyssey to be richly rewarding.

Runtime: 156 mins; Genre: Thriller; Released: 15 January 2016;

Director: Alejandro Iñárritu; Writers: Alejandro Iñárritu’s, Mark L. Smith;

Cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Tom Hardy, Will Poulter, Domhnall Gleeson

Click here to watch a trailer for The Revenant

Stan Lee’s Lucky Man – TV Review

Though it’s seen as Sky’s bid to cash-in on Marvel and DC Comic’s recent domination of our screens, Lucky Man is not a typical superhero story. It might be the brainchild of Stan Lee – the 93-year-old comic-book legend who created many of Marvel’s best-loved characters from Spider-Man to the Fantastic Four – but this is a thoroughly British take on the genre. There are no spandex-clad do-gooders ready to save the day here; instead our hero is a brilliant but broken cop on the brink of oblivion.
That man is James Nesbitt’s London murder detective Harry Clayton, a compulsive gambler with mounting debts and a failed marriage whose luck takes an unexpected upturn when he wakes up after a no-strings rendezvous with Sienna Guillory’s enigmatic beauty to find an ancient bracelet bound to his wrist.
Somewhat surprisingly, Clayton’s literal lucky charm doesn’t exactly bestow upon him the kind of good fortune the show’s title implies. First he finds himself placed in the egregious position of investigating the murder of his gambling grubstaker, casino owner Mr Lau. From there his problems only worsen as his investigation is dogged by the watchful eye of Steven Mackintosh’s ruthless copper while his possession of the amulet makes him the target of dark forces seeking to reclaim it for their own purposes.
One thing this 10-part thriller shares with its American counterparts is its near cinematic scope. London has rarely looked as gorgeously seductive as it does here, director Andy De Emmony borrowing some of Marvel’s visual swagger to great effect. The stylised casinos, nightclubs and alleys have a heightened, neo-noir vibe that provides the perfect backdrop to a clutch of expensive-looking set-pieces, such as the first episode’s thrilling and fabulously outlandish speed-boat race across the Thames.
Sadly, such ambition is not reflected in the execution of the series’ intriguing conceit. The idea of an ordinary man ‘cursed’ with good luck feels loaded with possibilities to explore the Faustian relationship between actions and consequences, yet co-creator Neil Biswas keeps this supernatural angle firmly at arms length throughout the opening episode. This might be because ‘luck’ is a tricky concept to visualise, but the failure to create a compelling workaround leaves us saddled with a plodding cop procedural that’s further stifled by portentous dialogue and a need to introduce intertwining plots and characters in a hurry.
Thank the stars, then, for James Nesbitt, who’s left to do most of the heavy lifting in episode one. Quite why the beloved Northern Irish everyman has never been considered as a potential Bond is a mystery, especially as the frazzled and sardonic charm his brings to Clayton here – not to mention a penchant for a tightly-trimmed suit – seems like a perfect fit for 00-status. The campaign starts here!
Lucky Man is not the superhero story anyone was expecting – not by any measure; but while it lacks any kind of luck, there’s enough swagger and charm here to make for an entertaining Friday-night yarn all the same.
Click here to watch a trailer for Stan Lee’s Lucky Man

Creed – Film Review

Almost ten years after his last bout, Rocky Balboa steps back into the ring for a seventh round in this raw and unexpectedly devastating sequel/spinoff. Far from a desperate comeback aimed at scoring one last payday, Ryan Coogler’s Creed is a smart, sensitive continuation of the Rocky saga that also strikes out into interesting and powerfully emotive new directions.

As the title makes plain, this is not another film about Rocky – in fact, the Italian Stallion doesn’t even enter the fray until the second act. In his stead we focus on Michael B Jordan’s Adonis Johnson, the son of Rocky’s one-time rival Apollo Creed.

First seen in 1998 being taken in by Apollo’s widow, Mary Anne (Phylicia Rashad), after a spell in an LA youth prison for scrapping with some street punks, we soon skip ahead to the present day where an adult ‘Donnie’ is stuck at a crossroads. Underwhelmed by his office job, Adonis longs to follow his father’s footsteps into the ring and hops across the border to Mexico each night to compete in underground brawls.

Adonis has his father’s raw talent, but lacks the discipline to make it as a professional. Desperate for training after finding himself shutout of every gym in LA, the young fighter heads to Philadelphia to seek out a certain former champ to be his mentor. With Rocky’s reluctant help, Adonis eventually earns a shot at the title, but does he have what it takes to take on the name of Creed?

Whereas Star Wars: The Force Awakens has been accused of being too referential to its predecessors, Creed strikes the perfect balance between staying true to the franchise’s roots and carving out its own unique path. The plot recycles key emotional beats from the first film – one scene makes poignant use of ‘the Rocky Steps’ – but Coogler dodges any suggestion of predictability by using these call-backs subtly to add weight to the story rather than to simply placate die-hard fans.

So while the plot might sound like a by-the-numbers underdog story, it’s not quite what you expect. On the surface, Adonis has no reason to fight: he’s well educated, comes from a wealthy family and has the kind of opportunities Rocky could only dream of. But rather than telling a typical rags-to-riches tale, Coogler probes deeper into more personal territory. As an illegitimate son who spent his early childhood being bounced around foster homes, Adonis has no sense of belonging and feels unworthy of the Creed name. This sense of rejection fuels his rage and his determination to step out from his father’s shadow, a motivation that goes beyond wealth and class and cuts to the core of what makes a person want to fight.

Essentially taking on the mantle of both Apollo Creed and Rocky himself, Jordan has some pretty roomy gloves to fill as Adonis Johnson, and he confidently rises to the challenge. Unlike his father’s flamboyant showmanship, there’s an edginess and ferocity behind Adonis’ obvious charisma, and Jordan’s ability to combine toughness and kindness is vital to keeping the audience onside when his tempestuous character lashes out at those closest to him.

As commanding as Jordan’s performance is, though, it’s impossible for it not to be overshadowed by Sylvester Stallone’s tender turn as Rocky. It’s fair to say Stallone has never been better as the ultimate underdog than he is here, showing a more weak and vulnerable side than we’re used to seeing from the veteran actor. Once a seemingly indestructible boxer, Creed finds a frail and ailing Rocky seemingly ready to throw in the towel on a life that’s taken everything he ever cared about, until Adonis’ unexpected arrival gives him the kick he needs to pick himself up off the mat one more time.

It’s this poignant characterisation that’s the most important retention from the original films, giving meaning to the bloody brawls when they eventually come.

And, boy, are they bloody. With a surreal shift of location to Everton’s Goodison Park, Adonis’ showdown with stock wrong ‘un “Pretty” Ricky Conlon (real light heavyweight champion Tony Bellew) is one of the most palpably bruising encounters ever committed to film.

Returning to the grimy, small-scale sensibilities of the original Rocky, Coogler shoves the audience straight into the heat of the action with uncomfortably tight close-ups and shots that stretch for entire rounds. We’re given the sensation of being trapped in the ring with these two warriors as they trade crunching blows, feeling every uppercut and hearing every gasped breath with such clarity you’ll be wincing and flinching along with the actors on screen.

It’s all part of an experience that resolves to leave you breathless. Coogler has crafted an exhilarating, sensory and devastatingly uplifting film that harks back to Rocky’s glory days while updating the story for a new generation. Simply put: it’s a total knockout.

Runtime: 133 mins; Genre: Sports Drama; Released: 15 January 2016;

Director: Ryan Coogler; Screenwriters: Ryan Coogler, Aaron Covington;

Cast: Michael B Jordan, Sylvester Stallone, Tessa Thompson, Phylicia Rashad

Click here to watch a trailer for Creed

Weekly TV News Round-Up

This week, in TV news: The cast of Friends reunite and Robot Wars returns, but Jack Bauer is left out in the cold…
Robots Rebooted
3…2…1…Activate! That’s right, Robot Wars is coming back to BBC Two. For those too young to recall the original late 90s/early 2000s show (Hey, you, get off our lawn!), the series involves teams of amateur ‘roboteers’ and their homemade Terminators slugging it out in a series of challenges to be crowned Ultimate Robotic Champion. No word yet on whether longtime host Craig Charles will return, or whether classic house ‘bots such as Sir Killalot or Casius Chrome will be wheeled out of retirement for a comeback. We reached out to both but they tried to shove us into The Pit of Oblivion.
Friends Reunited
After 12 years of constant rumours and dashed hopes, the cast of Friends will finally reunite for a one-off special next month. No, it’s not a new episode. Nor is a movie in the works. Instead, the cast will come together as part of an NBC special celebrating the career of legendary TV director James Burrows (Frasier), who recently shot his 1,000th episode. Not quite what we expected, then, but at least we’ll see all six cast members share the same room again. Well, except for Matthew Perry, who can’t attend because he’s rehearsing for a play right here in London. It’s really not what we were all hoping for, is it?
No Bauer, No Bother…
Dammit, Chloe. In what could turn out to be one of the worst ideas in the history of TV commissioning, 24 is heading back to our screens… without Jack Bauer. Though it’s keeping the real-time format, 24: Legacy will replace Kiefer Sutherland’s growling anti-hero with Eric Carter, a troubled military hero who turns to the CTU in his hour of need and becomes embroiled in an operation to prevent one of the largest terrorist attacks ever attempted on US soil. Details are understandably scant at this early stage, but we do know the pilot will shoot this winter under the direction of series regular Stephen Hopkins. Meanwhile, rumours circulate the role of Carter will be played by an as-yet-uncast black actor. Casting is now underway.
Cloning in Wonderland
Season three of Orphan Black was yet another dark, densely-layered and wildly entertaining run that deftly expanded the show’s complex mythology. The upcoming fourth season looks set to follow in its dark, twisted footsteps – at least judging by the Alice in Wonderland-inspired teaser that arrived earlier this week. Likening its story to plunging down a rabbit hole, the trailer hints at the show delving even deeper into its thought-provoking cloning conspiracy as chief duplicate Sarah Manning (Tatiana Maslany) resolves: “The only way forward… is to go back.” Orphan Black returns to BBC America in April and will likely hit the Beeb here in some capacity later this year.
Netflix Log-On to Kiss Me First
Having poached two of Channel 4’s heavy-hitters in Black Mirror and Derek recently, Netflix has now decided to team-up with the broadcaster for its latest project. They’ve struck a deal with Skins creator Bryan Elsley to adapt Lottie Moggach’s bestseller Kiss Me First. The six part thriller will combine live-action and animation to tell the story of Leila, a sheltered and obsessive 17-year-old who’s addicted to an online gaming site. There she meets Tess, a cool and confidant party girl with a dark secret. But when her new friend disappears, Leila must delve into her virtual persona to find out what happened. Expect it on a screen of some kind later this year.

The Hateful Eight – Film Review

The Hateful Eight almost didn’t get made. After an unfinished draft of the script leaked online, notoriously combustible auteur Quentin Tarantino threw an almighty strop and shelved the project indefinitely. Thankfully, the writer-director eventually relented, because The Hateful Eight is a magnificent piece of filmmaking, showcasing Tarantino’s iconic blend of humour, heightened violence and unbearable suspense but with an ambition and maturity that points to a filmmaker at the height of his powers.

With it’s chapter divisions, anachronistic soundtrack, fizzing dialogue and, of course, gloriously visceral shootouts, the film is so crammed with Tarantino’s best-know hallmarks it almost feels like the filmmaker’s greatest hits collection. An early scene in which two bounty hunters discuss a letter from President Lincoln riffs on Pulp Fiction’s legendary “Royale with cheese” sequence, the reveal of an imposter hiding beneath the floor boards apes Inglorious Basterds’ introductory salvo, and the whole premise of eight-stranger’s searching for the imposter among them is ripped straight from Reservoir Dogs (as well as being heavily influenced by such 70s TV westerns Bonanza and The Virginian).

The big difference here is that Tarantino is operating on a far grander scale than ever before. By enlisting Ennio Morricone to score his first western in forty years and shooting Colorado’s dramatic snowy vistas in Ultra Panavision 70, the director is suggesting his latest can sit alongside such greats as Ben-Hur and The Greatest Story Ever Told. And that’s not arrogance talking, especially when the result is 187 minutes of pure cinematic delight.

The premise is deceptively simple. Set in Wyoming sometime after the Civil War, bounty hunter John ‘The Hangman’ Ruth and his fugitive prisoner Daisy Domergue race to reach the fictional town of Red Rock before they’re engulfed by a rapidly approaching blizzard. Their progress is halted first be an encounter with Samuel L Jackson’s typically well-tailored bounty hunter Major Marquis Warren and then by a man who claims to be the new sheriff of Red Rock, each of whom hoping to hitch a ride on Ruth’s private carriage.

With the wintry cold now biting at their behinds, the group are left with no option but to seek shelter at a stagecoach passover called Minnie’s Haberdashery. Greeted there by four untrustworthy strangers, our weary travellers soon learn they’re not the only ones interested in Ruth’s highly valuable prisoner.

What follows is an exercise in the art of delayed gratification. Split in six chapters, the plot essentially boils down to a bunch of eccentric characters trading backstories of questionable veracity ad infinitum. Yet such is Tarantino’s masterful orchestration of proceedings, this indulgent verbosity never feels dull. Not since Alfred Hitchcock has a director possessed such a strong knack for creating suspense. Tarantino just throws a bunch of nefarious gunslingers into a room with a loaded gun (or a pot of poisoned coffee, in this case) and lets his flowery dialogue do the work as we wait through gnawed fingernails for all hell to break loose.

Central to this unbearable tension is the sense of division and mistrust the writer fosters between his characters. As soon as everyone arrives at Minnie’s, the story shifts into a murder mystery as Ruth and Warren try to work out who they can trust among this seedy crowd, which is no easy task when no-one is quite who they claim to be. The shifting dynamics as characters form fragile pacts and turn on each other is what makes the story so gripping and absorbing, turning oratory into edge-of-you-seat spectacle.

Naturally, Tarantino has assembled a cracking ensemble to breath life into his words. Regulars Michael Madsen, Tim Roth and Jackson are flawless in keeping up with the writer’s idiosyncratic rhythms, particularly Jackson whose sixth Tarantino outing sees him land his best role yet as Major Warren, a Civil War-vet who rarely gets the respect he deserves owing to the colour of his skin.

It’s the less familiar faces that really standout, though, with Walton Goggins excelling as the deceptively slippery Sheriff Chris Mannix, a much meatier part following his bit-part role in Django Unchained, while Jennifer Jason Leigh owns the room every time she is on screen, spitting Tarantino’s words with pure venom as vicious outlaw Domergue.

Eccentric cowboys and vibrant bloodletting aside, this is also Tarantino’s most mature work since Jackie Brown, fearlessly raising issues surrounding racial tensions, gun laws and notions of justice, hot-button topics that have taken on a greater significance following the director’s recent spat with American law enforcement.

If there is a flaw here, it’s that there’s little reason to care about what is unfolding. Because these eight ‘heroes’ are all entirely despicable, you never really root for any of them to come out on top, which leads to a climax that’s really just a meaningless hail of bullets.

But The Hateful Eight is about the journey, not the destination; and on that front Tarantino has delivered a rip-roaring western teeming in the kind of high-stakes suspense, exquisite violence, bombastic characters and extravagant imagery that few other filmmakers could hope to match.

Runtime: 187 mins; Genre: Western; Released: 8 January 2016;

Director: Quentin Tarantino; Writer: Quentin Tarantino;

Cast: Samuel L Jackson, Kurt Russell, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Walton Goggins

Click here to watch the trailer for The Hateful Eight

Crashing – TV Review

The time when even Friends’ enviable set-up of six pals sharing a flat seemed relatable has long gone. For a generation of twenty-somethings flattened by soaring house prices and a government that would rather re-brand £450,000 homes as ‘affordable’ than offer a helping hand, the squalid environs of Crashing, Channel 4’s vibrant and sharply moving comedy from Broadchurch’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge, offers a more realistic representation of modern living.

It’s centred on the lives and relationships of six young people living together in an abandoned hospital as property guardians – people who ‘protect’ empty buildings in return for cheap rent. Like Fresh Meat’s dingy student digs, the hospital is a pretty nightmarish ‘sit’ in which to set a ‘com’, with its crumbling walls, lethal light-fittings and the constant threat of eviction should the draconian tenancy rules be broken. Still, it should at least help you to feel better about your own rented hovel.

The threat of serious bodily harm aside, Crashing’s rundown hospital is the perfect setting for this keenly observed comedy, offering a clever means to throw a bunch of messy, strange and complicated characters together and give them space to develop. The borderline-squatters include Sam (Jonathan Bailey), an arrogant, sexually-voracious estate agent; Melody (Julie Dray), a French artist frustrated by her work as a teacher; and Adrian Scarborough’s Colin, a hapless divorcee who needs a place to crash.

But it’s happily engaged couple Anthony (Damien Molony) and Kate (Louise Ford) that are the most interesting occupants here. Living blissfully amongst the asbestos and discarded x-ray machines, their relationship is strained by the sudden arrival of Anthony’s oldest friend, Waller-Bridge’s ukulele-playing Lulu. Their effortless, flirty chemistry instantly sets the uptight Kate on edge – and with good reason, as there’s a frothy tension between the childhood pals that hints of unresolved feelings their awkward banter can’t always hide. Maybe hold off on buying that wedding dress for now, eh Kate?

Considering Waller-Bridge possess a superb ear for filthy, cringe-inducing one-liners, the gags probably don’t come often enough in the first episode, but it’s more than made up for by the depth and complexity of the characters. For all their arrogance and foul-mouthed antics, everyone here is lonely and insecure – from Sam’s fear of being alone to Lulu’s desperation to appear quirky – a perfect representation of the terrifying uncertainty that comes with being in your twenties. Such profundity is important, too, offering just enough sweetness to offset Crashing’s recklessly dirty wit.

Click here to watch Crashing – Episode 1