Rhod Gilbert is a notoriously dour comedian. A bit miserable and matter of fact. Funny though, but cynical and blunt. And tonight we’re promised that things will get beyond blunt.
Rhod’s latest tour – Rhod Gilbert and the Giant Grapefruit – is all about his battle with cancer over the last 3 years. Well, they do say that we can find humour in anything.
As he takes the stage he’s quick to warn us that things are going to get dark. But we know why we’re here and exactly what the circumstances of the show are. Gilbert has fought and beaten head and neck cancer, after the discovery of a growth – that’ll be the grapefruit – on his neck. Ironically, this was found during a trek in South America to raise funds for his local cancer hospital. And as the man himself says, when life throws you lemons, you make lemonade. But when life throws you grapefruits, you’re never going to be sure quite what to do. But, like comedians are inclined to do, he made a joke out of it and took it on tour.
It’s a very different night of comedy that begins with the comic asking if there are any people in the audience who’ve also had cancer. But it works. There are, I suppose as you’d statistically expect, a fair few audience members who have gone through and recovered from cancer. A couple of people have even had the same cancer as Gilbert and so some of tonight is spent discussing what they’ve been through. It’s never indulgent and always funny (which feels like a weird thing to write even now).
It’s a brilliant show. Gilbert is, as ever, engaging and forthright. Nothing is held back, meaning that a few thousand of us are treated to tales of cancer based constipation that we probably could have done without! But, even when we’re cringeing about it, we’re laughing. Along the way, we’re treated to tales of John, Rhod’s driver while he was unable to drive himself, who is ridiculed mercilessly.
As promised, there are lots of darker moments tonight. It’d be impossible to avoid after a 3 year cancer journey. But it’s actually uplifting. Brutally honest and all the while searching for a bright spot, but it’s dark. I find myself wondering whether or not it’s ok to laugh at times, but realise that the whole room is laughing so it’s probably the whole point. Sometimes, when the chips are down, if you don’t laugh, well you’ll probably cry and I know which I prefer.
There’s a brilliant section near the end of the set where Rhod gives out awards for those who’ve featured in his battle against cancer. I won’t give the game away as some of you might go to see the show in the coming months, but there’s a brilliant tale involving a trip to get treatment that almost ended up in Aberdeen of all places. And remember, Gilbert lives in Wales! There are also awards for those who reached out to Rhod during his last 3 years, some with wise and beautifully written, sage pieces of advice…and others where it’s just plain weird.
The show ends with Rhod now offstage and a video that was made during his treatment. Keeping with the themes of the night, it’s funny while also being really sad at times and we’re given just that extra little bit of insight into Gilbert’s character. Thankfully, it’s been a happy ending and I dare say that there was more than just me in the room who was choking back a few tears as Rhod rang the bell to signal that he’d beaten cancer.
It’s 10.40 on Sunday night and I’ve just got home. My face aches, particularly across my cheekbones and I think I probably need a go on my inhaler. I feel genuinely knackered, but it’s not a bad thing though…just the result of spending some of my evening laughing like a drain in Russell Kane’s company.
I last saw Russell probably over 10 years ago and so, given the amount of time, I’m not entirely sure what to expect. What I do know is that it’s going to be a very physical kind of gig. A bit like Lee Evans but with a better sense of style and far more up to date references.
First up tonight is Jack Skipper, a comedian I must admit that I’ve never heard of. But that’s part of the treat here. I mean, us middle aged types aren’t often out on a Sunday night anyway, but as far as a bit of mystery is concerned, I’m restricted to the pub quiz, the meat raffle and a bit of ‘open the box’ if I’m lucky! So a mystery comedian is fine with me!
It can be quite awkward seeing any new comedian though. I’m always immediately aware of the chance that they might just die on their arse and I was brought up to always try to be polite. What do I do if he’s just not funny? Happily though, Jack raises some decent laughs early on before then dropping a C bomb and really warming us up.
Starting off by talking us through how he’ll pay his kids back for all of the early mornings that they provide him with when he’s hungover, he then moves on to the fact that we’re out on a Sunday night – a miracle for some of us if it’s not on the calendar! Particularly true in our house! He’s an ex carpet fitter, so gives us some jokes and stories about his time in that particular trade as well as his take on his school days and the fact that he feels that he’s just not that bright. Bright or not, Jack Skinner leaves us all with a warm glow and the feeling that we’ve just seen a future star. There’s a hint of Micky Flanagan and a touch of Jack Whitehall, while also having something akin to Russell Kane himself in there, yet Skinner definitely has his own way. He’s funny, relatable and likeable and deserves his success when it comes.
Now normally when reviewing any kind of gig I’ll have some points of reference. So, if it’s a band it’ll be notable songs and if it’s a comedian, it’s the topics they talk about or just a great gag. Russell Kane is very much a different kettle of fish though. I swear tonight feels like it’s 100% off the cuff and it’s all the more brilliant for that fact. It’s obviously not off the cuff at all, but for someone to meander through as many topics, views and stories and still get back to the point time after time, all the while making the entire room laugh uproariously, is a real skill.
It’s not hard to work out why this is called the ‘Hyperactive’ tour. If you know Kane’s live work then you know his style; perpetual motion at what feels like 100 miles an hour. And anyone who just bought tickets for a good night out is left in no doubt as to the name when he bounds out and proceeds to just do circuits across the stage as he talks. Kane is a phenomenon; he never seems to stop and his delivery is incredible coming as it does on the run, during a dance, lying down or just crouching in front of us. Even taking a drink is done while wandering!
Whether there’s a plan or not, Kane’s material is superb tonight and I find myself wondering ‘Is this the funniest show I’ve ever seen?’ about halfway through. The answer is that I don’t know, but that’s the fault of my memory, not Russell Kane. Tonight is very definitely up there though.
In a way, Kane is hugely unprepared for tonight’s show as when he takes to the stage he’s only actually been in the building for 10 minutes or so. Apparently he was stuck in motorway traffic, which not only leads to a glorious bit about Slaithwaite – a place Kane discovers that the locals pronounce as more of a noise than an actual word; Slaawit – but lands him in quite an agitated mood. In turn, this adds even more to the energy of the show!
Quite a chunk of tonight is related to the audience. Kane ‘picks on’ the front row from the off and much fun is had at the expense of Yorkshire folk and their accents and attitudes. There’s nothing at all malicious in this and Russell judges the tone brilliantly so that the whole theatre is laughing as one. Even when he does a brief section about Geordies later on, I can’t take offence. It’s just very, very funny and stingingly accurate!
Kane says himself that he doesn’t tell jokes. In fact some of tonight seems dedicated to almost giving us a sermon about enjoying life, but it’s just hilarious at the same time. There are a good ten minutes spent on gently mocking ‘Gen Z’ as he asks questions of a 17 year old near the front and I find myself veering between wiping tears of laughter away and feeling dreadfully sorry for the lad!
Further down the line, there are riffs on his working class roots, his family, his wife and also the joys of living up north. All of it is priceless, hence the aching face and struggling lungs when I get home.
Only when Russell starts talking about limiting his show to 70 minutes, do I realise that we’re nearing the end. So relentless has he been that it feels like time has flown. Maybe somehow, with his dancing and speed walking around the stage he’s managed to find a way to speed up time? He admits to being worn out and I think every last person in the room feels exactly the same. But we’re all smiling.
Kane leaves the stage to rapturous and well deserved applause and much acclaim. There’s no chance of an encore, but nobody seems to care. This has been a wonderful night spent in the company of someone who appears to be a wonderful human being. And boy, is he funny!
If you get the chance to catch any of the rest of the tour, then jump on it. If not, start preparing yourself for next time!
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Russell Kane; perhaps the funniest stand up in Britain.
So, even though we got three points and recorded a clean sheet in our first game of the new season at the weekend, there was really only the one talking point. What on God’s green earth was Ben Brereton Diaz’s reaction to Fabian Schar’s so called headbutt all about? I mean, I could end this one early and just confirm that he’s a massive cheat, but I’ve been having a think and wrote a few alternative ideas down, just for a bit of fun. Here’s what might have actually happened.
The famous sniper in the stands returns. The same person who got Steven Taylor all those years ago against Villa, the same one who regularly targets Mo Salah and sometimes hangs around SJP to get a pot shot at Miggy.
Or could it be the same one who ‘shot’ at Donald Trump a little while back? And if it made a superhero like Donny fall, then why not a bang average Premier League footballer? Will Diaz appear for his next game with an elastoplast on his forehead like Trump’s famous ear bandage, just to be even more convincing? Maybe, like Trump’s supporters, Southampton fans will follow suit. Who knows? Whatever happens, Diaz will forever look like a tw*t.
Thinking about the future. We all know that footballers have a short career. And gone are the days when they could just go and run a pub when they hit thirty something. So maybe Diaz is thinking of becoming an actor and just getting his audition in early. If they ever remake Platoon, he’s got to be up for a role along with the aforementioned Taylor.
Garlic Surprise? Even the most biased Newcastle fan can’t think that Fabian Schar was entirely blameless. You stick your head in, you’re asking for trouble. That said though…it was all Diaz’s fault, the cheat. But what if Fabian had eaten one of his famous garlic surprise (with extra garlic) sandwiches before the match? Or had a cheeky lamb bhuna for his pre-match meal. I mean, they’re famous for their love of curries in Switzerland, apparently. Death breath plus a very sensitive nose? Could be…
Karaoke? It’s a little known fact that Ben Brereton Diaz is a big, big fan of karaoke. Apparently, he’s got his very own machine. A top of the range one from Tandy with disco lights and everything. Could it be then, that in an effort to diffuse the situation, he was simply bursting into song. I mean, by the look on his face he’s got to be doing Total Eclipse of The Heart by Bonnie Tyler, right? Either that or he’s just a dick.
Hair problems. Fabian Schar leans in towards Diaz’s head and in an effort to pull away and, in the spirit of fair play, not get Wor Fabby sent off he lashes himself back just too quick and gets a stray lock of hair from that frankly magnificent mane in his eye. Listen, back in the day, I too had magnificent long, flowing locks. Or was it a shit mullet? I’m too old to remember. What I do remember though, is picking up a similar injury at a Europe concert at Newcastle City Hall in the late eighties. I think it was during The Final Countdown and believe me, it stung.
Or maybe all of this is just b*ll*cks and the truth is that VAR failed us and Ben Brereton Diaz is a cheat? In the end though, three points is all that matters. Ain’t karma a bitch, Benny boy?
Golf is one of those sports and subjects that tends to polarise opinion, isn’t it? Many will quote the famous Mark Twain line about it being “a good walk spoiled”, but for every one of those there’s a fan who is simply addicted to the game. Wherever your opinion lies on golf though, I think you’ll enjoy the film.
The Phantom of the Open is a 2021 comedy drama starring Sir Mark Rylance. It tells the true life tale of Maurice Flitcroft, a crane driver from Cumbria whose attempts to enter the British Open back in 1976, caused much controversy amongst the golfing fraternity.
Watching the film I came to the opinion that Flitcroft was very much a modern day working class hero. Here was a man who despite having never picked up a club in his life, decided to dream big. Partly down to naivety and partly down to his desire to live a full life and follow his dreams, Flitcroft applied for the tournament, bought some knock off clubs and gear and began to practice.
But this film is not all about the golf. Maurice is simply a lovely man and a born optimist. He encourages his wife and sons to dream big too and helps them out in any way he can. What ensues is a touching tale of working class family life and love that teaches us that even when the chips are down, to keep on dreaming and keep on smiling. In many ways, the golf and Maurice’s pursuit of some kind of Open glory is a bit of a sideshow.
That said, watching Maurice innocently take on the establishment and stuffed shirts that seem to dominate golf even to this day is an absolute riot! Ticking the ‘Professional’ box on his entry form is just the start of the fun. When he actually takes to the course – having been turned away from his local course by the snobs that govern it – the hilarity hits like a whacking drive down the fairway, all the way to the green. Needless to say it doesn’t end well, but this only leads to Maurice continuing to stick it to ‘the man’ by attempting to play the tournament year upon year!
Mark Rylance is just superb as Flitcroft. I must admit, when I saw that he was doing the film, I was surprised to say the least. Maybe I was guilty of the same snobbery that the film tackles, but Rylance’s name screamed Shakespeare, rather than comedy tales of wayward amateur golfers. It turns out that I needn’t have worried as the subtlety of his portrayal of Watkins is just wonderful. Rylance nails it, portraying Maurice as honest, naïve and vulnerable, while also conveying his endless kindness and love for his family. Maurice is a character that you might just find yourself falling for, such is Rylance’s performance.
The rest of the cast are brilliant too. Sally Hawkins (The Shape of Water, Paddington) is fantastic as Flitcroft’s wife, encouraging his dreams however absurd they might seem. Elsewhere, Mark Lewis Jones plays Cliff, Watkins’s every so slightly dodgy but well meaning pal and Rhys Ifans is hilarious as Maurice’s nemesis, the interfering Keith Mackenzie, the chairman of the almost sacred St. Anrdews gold course.
Sitting down to watch I was just expecting a bit of a comedy. A few laughs along the way and probably a bit of hilarity as our working class hero takes on the establishment. In reality what I got was much, much more. This was a truly engaging study of a great British eccentric, as well as a enduring love story. The Watkins family live for each other and love and affection is never in short supply, making for a really touching piece of film. And there’s drama too, when things inevitably go wrong with Maurice’s dream.
As a true story, the film sends out a message. It’s not just a chance to watch this funny little man do things he’s not supposed to. The film teaches us that there’s nothing wrong in following your dreams and that it doesn’t matter what others might say or even how unattainable those dreams might seem; if you want it, then the only thing that’s stopping you from at least giving it a go, is you.
The Phantom of The Open is very funny and at times brilliantly dramatic. It’s much more than just a film about golf. A true underdog story this film will take you on a rocky ride from start to finish and you’ll be rooting for Maurice all the way. And if by the end, like me, you find that there’s something in your eye, then don’t be surprised.
Wednesday, middle of the week and two stupidly busy people have taken the bold decision to go out. Not just to go out, but to go out having made a 45 minute journey down the M1 to Sheffield in order to do so. And on a school night as well! They don’t get out much either and when they do they tend to aim for a weekend, so being out on a school night had better be worth it! Over to you, Rich Hall.
Walking towards The Leadmill I’ve got the familiar pre-gig nerves. I won’t be on stage or anything, but I always get a bit nervous around big groups of people. Gigs make me additionally nervous because, despite my vintage, I’m still really self conscious. What if I fall over in a rush of people? What if everyone thinks my t-shirt’s shit? Rational types of fears, you know?
I’d forgotten about the calming effect of certain places though and as we pass through the front doors of The Leadmill and head towards the turnstile and the ridiculously slim door that takes you through, it all disappears.
Even though I’m a long time fan of Rich Hall, I’ve never actually seen him live. No idea why, but it’s certainly not a deliberate choice. Just one of those things, I guess. I know I could list bands that I love that I’ve just not gotten round to seeing too. Tonight, I don’t quite know what to expect. I know that Rich will come on and do a stand up set for the first hour or so and I also know that after a short break he’ll be back on with his Hoedown band. And, as someone who would gladly roll out every stereotype in the book if I was asked about country music, here’s where a bit of a problem lies.
The country music side of things almost swung the vote as to whether or not we’d come tonight. We had the tickets, but had an awful lot on in terms of work and personal stuff and to be honest, the thought of sitting through an hour of country and western music, nearly had me sat in an armchair in defiance 45 minutes north of Sheffield. (That’s defiance as in an emotion. Defiance is not a place 45 minutes north of Sheffield).
I’m now so, so glad we decided to come out instead of staying home.
Rich being Rich he ambles on stage, having given himself a fairly downbeat intro. Just the sight of him boosts my mood! From this point on it’s all set at an dawdling kind of pace and sometimes in a rambling kind of direction. But it’s fantastic.
Rich tells jokes and tales about all manner of subject matter. From Donald Trump, to budgeting and health care, right the way through to various places and accents in England that he’s well aware of. He’s clearly done his homework too as he opens with some observations about Sheffield taken from reading the local paper, The Star. It’s fair to say that this goes down brilliantly and from the moment he sets foot on stage, he’s got the audience on his side.
There are tales about the perplexing differences between Americans and British people and our non-linear way of thinking as well as combine harvesters and how they link to how a Tory MP might have mistakenly looked at porn in the House of Commons. There’s also a fantastic story about Rich’s trip to Buckingham Palace. And if you didn’t know, he’s also unearthed an improbable link between Morgan Freeman and the American actress Ashley Judd. Everything here is laugh out loud funny and all of it smattered with a liberal helping of curses.
By the time Rich has done about twenty minutes of stand up I’m sold on the idea of the hoedown. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? Maybe a 13 minute song about a dead pet, but I figure I can get through that.
There’s a fifteen minute break between Rich strolling off at the end of his stand up set and the Hoedown and then, on come the Hoedown band to start us off with a little bit of country riffing before Rich himself joins them.
I have to confess that Rich Hall’s Hoedown is a revelation to me. This is not a morose hour of dead pets and droughts (look, I was trying for some alliteration, alright? I have no idea if either of these things crops up in regular country an western). This is more comedy, but with a country twist. And it’s clever stuff too. Not only does Rich come up with a song about Sheffield, but there’s lots of audience participation where he’ll have a little chat with someone in the front row and then get a few things about their lives into a song, more or less on the spot.
Now, I’m not daft enough to realise that there’ll be song templates in use here, but I’m still left admiring the skills involved. And it’s still endlessly funny! Two sections stand out tonight and they both involve the audience. Firstly, there’s what we’ll call the Kieran Edge section where Rich asks a few questions of a lad in the front row – Kieran Edge, don’t you know – and then skillfully weaves him into the set, including a song that’s sort of about him and even a guest vocal slot for the man himself later on too. There’s also a section – and this has to have been off the cuff – where another bloke in the front row, named Sid, turns out to b a musician and is then invited to come up and play guitar for a song. And Sid does a cracking job, let me tell you, while Rich watches on from the side of stage clearly enjoying this twist, but slightly bemused all the same. I find myself tapping my foot, laughing along and ever-so-slightly wishing I too had a cowboy hat.
The evening ends with the interruption of a country song for a burst of Lynrd Skynrd and some gunfire courtesy of Kieran Edge again and some rednecks from the Hoedown Band’s brief tour of some southern states in America – you had to be there! It sums up the hilarity and sheer sense of good fun of the night though. Where else could you be included in a country song and then get asked to stand up and fire an imaginary pistol at the guitarist at a gig? Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Rich Hall’s Hoedown, coming to a venue – maybe – near you right up until September. I’d heartily recommend that you get out to see him as quick as you can!
As a post script to this review, I’d like to both show my support for The Leadmill and in my own small way, hopefully publicise their fight against closure. I’ve posted a link below that will tell you all about it as well as the relevant hashtag should you want to protest via social media.
From my own personal viewpoint The Leadmill and small venues like it simply cannot be allowed to close. They’re the thriving, beating heart of local entertainment and the places where many an act will find their feet, hone their craft and give some of the best performances that they’re ever going to give.
I live in Leeds, but me and my wife have been going to The Leadmill for years, seeing countless bands and comedians. I could bang on about the place for another few thousand words, but it’s easier just to tell you that it’s just a fantastic venue. There’s nothing flash about the place and it’s not some kind of enormodome where you might have the misfortune to squint from a distance at what you’re told is Ed Sheeran, having payed three figures for the privilege. The Leadmill is small and intimate, the people are welcoming and the atmosphere is always electric. Spit and sawdust spring to mind, but you’d never actually find any! From the turnstile to get in, the brilliant bar and of course the venue itself, it’s just perfect in it’s own special way. Everyone seems happy to be there.
On our most recent visit – the one you’ve read about above – we followed a couple of women down the street and into the venue. They were chatting about whether or not they were in the right attire for a comedy gig (I’m not sure what the right attire would be, unless you’re dressed like some kind of North Sea fisherman in order to save your clothes from the tears of laughter you’re exepcting) and as we got to the doors they came to the following conclusion.
“Aah, doesn’t matter really. Leadmill, innit?”
We don’t need a multitude of reasons to save The Leadmill. Let’s do it because… “Leadmill, innit?”
#WeCantLoseLeadmill
Please click the link below and sign the petition to save The Leadmill!
If you’re from the UK, you might well know Mark Watson for his stand up comedy or even his fairly frequent appearances on panel shows. A distinctive looking fella and very funny indeed. What you might not have any knowledge of are his novels. If this is true, I think it’s fair to say that you’ve been missing out.
The Knot is the second of Watson’s books that I’ve read and it’s reminded me that I need to get my hands on the rest.
The front cover of The Knot tells readers that Dominic Kitchen is hiding a secret and that it’s one that he has carried all of his life. So you immediately know that there’s something not quite right and that this secret must be something pretty serious. So, in a way, we’re hooked from the off. And believe me, when you find out the secret, it really is the kind of thing that would stop any one of us living a normal life.
The novel is set mainly in the latter decades of the 20th century and Dominic is the youngest of three siblings, brought up in a middle class family in London. Dominic’s older brother, the somewhat domineering Max, graduates from Oxford and goes on to become a successful sports agent while his sister Victoria marries a famous cricketer. Meanwhile, Dominic seems to simply tootle along, never really sure of what he wants to do with his life. He stumbles upon a talent for photography and together with crazy Irishman Daley, makes a living from that. But nothing ever seems simple for Dominic. We find him approaching middle age, but are frequently taken on flashbacks to his earlier formative years. And with this technique, his terrible secret is drip fed to us. I had an inkling of it early on but found myself regularly thinking, ‘no, it can’t be that’. Until it was…
The secret is the cause of the knot, a feeling that plagues almost everything that Dominic does and even though he seems to be managing to live a happy enough life, it is always there in the background, eating away at him. Can he ever really be happy? Will he be able to make his marriage to Lauren and career as a wedding photographer work? And even if he does, will the dreaded secret do the seemingly inevitable and come back to ruin everything? After all, some things just can’t stay hidden.
The Knot really is a good read. The storyline is certainly original and there are moments of jaw-dropping drama as well plenty of the kind of comic moments you’d expect from a writer who doubles up as a stand up comedian. Dominic is a character that I think a lot of us would be able to relate to – not sure of where he wants life to lead, unable to move on in the way that he might really want to because of a lack of confidence and an enormous mistake and just not really coping as an adult. The secret that blights Dominic’s life is really quite shocking and even though it becomes a little more acceptable later on in the story, neither Dominic or ourselves as readers can ever really recover from it. But you will find yourself on Dominic’s side, despite the nature of his mistake.
I’d absolutely recommend The Knot. If you enjoy a good story, well written characters – some you’ll love, others you’ll hate – and life changing dilemmas that you can get your teeth into, then it’s a novel that’s worth picking up.
Sixth Grade is a tough time for any kid. Hormones are starting to fly around, you’re finding your way in life a little more and seeking independence from your parents, while at the same time still seeking solace under their protective ‘wings’. And all the while, you’re forming friendships that are likely to last at least up until adulthood, if not for the rest of your life. Sixth grade might just be the making of a person.
Such is the situation for Max, Lucas and Thor (The self titled Bean Bag Boys and the heroes of Good Boys), three 6th grade friends living in a smart suburb of an unnamed American city as they prepare for their first ‘kissing party’. Sadly though, their preparation doesn’t go smoothly, leading to a series of misadventures that although often bordering on the ridiculous, are highly entertaining.
‘Good Boys’ is a coming of age adventure with a healthy slice of slapstick thrown in for good measure. Having been invited to their first ever ‘kissing party’ by the school cool kid, Soren, the boys set out to do some research. After all, if you’re heading for a kissing party, you’d better know just how to kiss, right? And Max is smitten with classmate Brixlee and desperate to grab a smooch with her.
So, in the name of research and with no thought whatsoever for privacy, the boys borrow an expensive drone from Max’s dad and set out to film a neighbour kissing her boyfriend. So far, so good…nothing to see here! Surely, nothing can go wrong? But the Bean Bag Boys’ drone experiment in fact goes badly – and oh so predictably – wrong and as a result they inadvertently make enemies of their neighbour Hannah (she of the kissing with the boyfriend) and her friend, Lily. Even though the boys eventually get to their kissing party, they are forced to learn some harsh lessons from their mistakes in the days afterwards. This is often to hilarious effect and although at times the humour is near the knuckle and perhaps a bit silly, I found myself laughing along all the way through.
Writers Lee Eisenberg and Gene Stupnitsky, known for their work on The Office, deserve great credit for the words that they put in the mouths of babes here, as it’s often brilliantly incongruous and hilariously – and deliberately – inaccurate. Seth Rogen, one of the producers of the film, has clearly had a chunk of input here too. The boys’ take on various aspects of sex and drugs is a hilarious mix of total myth, complete rubbish and dangerous stereotypes which is guaranteed to raise more than the odd chuckle.
In their quest to replace the expensive drone – which is inevitably destroyed – and avoid their now mortal enemies, Hannah and Lily, the Bean Bag Boys find themselves thrust into several dangerous adventures that are navigated with typical pre-teen innocence so that they can reach an out of town mall. But it’s not just these trials and tribulations that make up the coming of age story and as a result of the kissing party the boys learn some things about friendship and each other that they would have never suspected in their previous lives sitting in their ban bag den playing games.
Good Boys is a great, feel-good film. The comedy here is sharp, the characters well written and if at times the twists and turns of the narrative are nothing short of ridiculously unbelievable, it doesn’t matter. Good Boys is one of those films where you’ll need to suspend your sense of reality and just enjoy the action, however daft it might get. Ultimately you’ll want the boys to get the drone, stay friends and keep the feel-good factor…but once all of their escapades are over, will there be a happy ending for Max, Lucas and Thor?
Middle Age Fanclub 