Million Dollar Baby

[CREDITS APPEAR ALL WRITTEN IN CHILDLIKE ‘CRAYON’ FONT]

As the title is ‘Million Dollar Baby’ we know there’s going to be a baby in it (obviously, or else it’d just be stupid). And so the first shot we see is a ten-month old toddling about in a massive nappy (or however old babies are once they become sentient beings). We think he’s a normal baby (why wouldn’t we?) until something amazing happens. When his dummy falls out, he says “Damn!”. Say whaaat?! He’s a talking baby! Voiced by one of the most versatile actors of our generation… Mark(y Mark) Wahlberg! Already we know that this is going to be an amazing film, as funny as it is ground-breaking.

But having a little guy speaking isn’t enough to sustain an entire movie, contrary to popular belief. We need a twist. And it arrives in the form of a letter that results in our baby (called Clint) inheriting money from a deceased distant relative (it has to be distant so that we’re not really that bothered). He goes to a lawyer’s office and sits on one of those green leather Chesterfield chairs that all lawyers have. There is a huge X-Factor-esque gap before the amount of inheritance is announced. It’s a million dollars! Naturally, despite the unambiguous title of the movie, we’re still shocked. His distant relative (who is still not named so that we don’t get attached — a bit like a pet pig you might go on to eat) is actually English. This means that due to exchange rates at the time of filming, this is about £657,000 in pounds sterling. However, it not only sounds more in dollars, it’s a nice, conveniently round number too.

Understandably, Clint the baby is extremely excited. So much so that he actually craps himself. We know this because he tells us in his man’s voice. He has his nappy changed. Despite being able to talk and develop complex trains of thought, he’s unable to do this himself. Then he runs/waddles out and sets about spending the million dollars/£657,000 in the style that a grown man would (because he has a man’s voice).

[THIS NEXT BIT WAS IN THE COMMENTARY]

Mark Walhberg got it written into his contract that one scene would show Clint the baby buying copies of his 1992 album ‘You Gotta Believe’ by Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch.

[A FEW SCENES OF HIM FLASHING THE CASH HAPPEN]

One particular scene involves him going to a strip club. The beers are flowing, a cigar hangs between his tiny lips and he’s putting $20 bills in the g-strings of the sexy young ladies. The strippers are loving it, pinching his cheeks and pushing their impressive bosoms into his face. It’s all great fun, until you remember this is a pre-toddler and realise it’s actually quite disturbing. We can only imagine the emotional damage that this is doing.

It’s not even realistic as in real life, he’d get ID’d everywhere. To cover this, the director makes a half-hearted attempt to mention that everyone assumes that Clint the baby is in fact, Verne Troyer of Mini-Me fame. As a real-life friend of the baby, Troyer actually agreed to do a belittling (pun intended) cameo dressed as one of his shrunken baby mates. It added very little (again, pun intended) to the story, but it meant they could add another name to the film posters.

[MORE DVD EXTRAS]

As the film was quite popular at the time, the line “I filled my diaper again!” becomes somewhat of a catchphrase. An extensive merchandise range was even brought out, with dolls that shouted the phrase and then wet themselves.

Due to its unexpected popularity, it also spawned 18 sequels. The first two did reasonably well at the box office (Million Dollar Dog and Million Dollar Twins, respectively). But the rest went straight to DVD/illegal download — Million Dollar Mexican, Million Dollar Zombie and Million Dollar Jew being particular lows in the franchise.

[THE SERIOUS BIT AND ‘LESSON LEARNT’]

But before all that, the first one needs to finish in a suitably upbeat way. So, Clint realises there’s more to life than drinking, smoking, buying gold-plated breast pumps for his wet nurse and paying Christina Aguilera to sing lullabies to him in her leather chaps. So he invests in a boxing academy for women, as this fulfils his three passions: aggressive women, investing in niche markets and big red shiny things (the boxing gloves).

Some critics hailed it as a metaphor for stolen youth as it came out the same time the first Michael Jackson trials (the following three sequels coincided with Jackson’s subsequent trials). Others said it was just a comedy about a rich, boxing-loving baby.

[SETTING IT UP FOR THE SEQUEL]

In cinemas across the country, audiences shout in one voice: “What’s he doing now? A baby wouldn’t do that! Aha ha ha ha ha ha!”. It’s essentially a one-joke movie. And, as the credits go up at the end, we see clips of the baby as he is now — a carefree young man running a business. He has a hot wife and toddler twins (the signs of success). Then just as we think all’s well that ends well, the camera zooms in on the twins who look at each, roll their eyes and say simultaneously, “Oh brother!”, ready for the sequel.

Dirty Dancing

One sewage worker who refused to drop the ball(room).

It opens on Strictly Come Dancing (except that for copyright reasons, they have to call it Quickly Go Prancing). The dresses are dazzling, the moves astounding, the choreography captivating. We’re under a spell. A spell broken by one word spoken in a broad Yorkshire accent: “Trannie”. The camera then homes in on a blokey bloke. We know this because he’s wearing a dirty white vest and drinking a can of supermarket own brand lager that’s spelt with an ‘r’, so that it actually reads ‘larger’. (The can is also slightly bigger than is standard, making it a very clever pun.) 

Then another voice is heard. “I think they look amazing”. Then the original voice again, “Shut yer cake ‘ole Johnny, you sound like one of them bumbandits”. So we know now that Johnny’s dad doesn’t like dancing or, apparently, people who are gay. Right there and then, Johnny decides his love of dancing must be hidden and they both get ready for work.

Like all Yorkshire men in films (apart from pretend ones like Patrick Stewart), they’re manual labourers and wear a flat cap at all times — even though this is highly impractical for their job in the sewage plant. We also discover Johnny’s nickname is ‘Captain’ — a derogatory moniker given by the other lads, as Johnny’s job is to fish out all the particularly chunky lumps in the sewage before it’s processed into Carling Extra Cold.

But one day, everything changes. And he fishes out a tiara. It’s caked in faecal matter, both human and animal (Johnny can now tell the difference between last night’s madras and a well-digested tin of Pedigree Chum from 50 paces). But as he washes the tiara, it unlocks ambitions of becoming a dancer.

[DANCING QUEEN BY ABBA PLAYS WITH NO VOCALS, JUST THE HAUNTING MELODY]

He rushes home but the only dance he knows is ‘Saturday Night’ by Whigfield. He soon realises this is the musical domain of the 40^th birthday party (or ‘do’, being in the north of England). So he looks for a dance teacher in the Yellow Pages (Yorkshire being the last remaining place where the paper version exists). He has to do this without his dad knowing, as he’s shouting at Quickly Go Prancing again. It’s not made clear as to why he keeps watching it to be honest.

[THE FIRST MEETING WITH THE DANCE TEACHER]

Johnny’s dance teacher doesn’t have a studio. Then he has a lightbulb moment (he calls it this because he once had a great idea that involved using old lightbulbs as a pestle, but sadly, his crushed herbs mixed with tiny shards of broken glass and resulted in significant blood loss. In hindsight, it’s not a great analogy). He suggests the sewage works! He doesn’t really question why a dance teacher would advertise if they had no space, as the practice location will probably be part of the plot.

[SCENE OF THEM CREEPING INTO THE SEWAGE WORKS FOR THE FIRST LESSON]

You’d expect him to be rubbish but as the film has already been on a while, things are speeded up a bit. He’s pretty good and soon they’re tripping the light fantastic in a dark sewage works — the moonlight glinting off the chunks in the brown soup. Then they hear something! But it’s fine, it’s just late-night doggers and we all have a good laugh about it. The only person who doesn’t is the dance teacher. She cries and tells Johnny that her old dancing partner was a prolific dogger who accidently trapped his babymakers in the car door, rendering him unable to dance again. All on the eve of the Quickly Go Prancing trials. This is great news for us as viewers, as until now, the film hasn’t really had a plot as such. The silence hangs in the air (with the exception of the occasional car horn accidently pressed by a clammy rogue dogger’s buttock) before he suggests they try out for it.

[MONTAGE WHERE JOHNNY QUICKLY LEARNS THE ESSENTIAL MACARENA, LAS KETCHUP AND GANGNAM STYLE DANCES]

All the classics tunes come out, from ‘Love Man’ to ‘I’ve Had The Time Of My Life’. Except the filmmakers couldn’t afford the licensing, so each one is a cover by Steve Brookstein. Still, it’s a beautiful sight and for no real reason, they decide to practice in the water. If the dances had lifts in, this might be an obvious choice, but for the Viennese Waltz, it seems mere folly. And as they’re in an isolated town, the only place with water deep enough is the processing plant. Watching them jostle around in human waste of varying degrees of viscosity is actually quite harrowing. The two leads don’t seem to care though. And it’s clear a romance is developing between them when Johnny emerges from the sewage water with a used condom he’s found in it and says (with a cheeky wink), “Fancy another johnnie instead?”. They both laugh raucously at the hilarious joke.

Then they walk home to shower and in an act of gallantry, Johnny carries her shopping. She’s done a ‘big shop’ so has loads, especially as Tesco are heavily promoting the ‘five pieces of fruit a day’ thing, and Johnny is secretly a bit gutted he offered to carry a watermelon. Still, after throwing shapes in truly mucky water, it seems the least of the strange things he’s done that night.

We’ve had trials, tribulations and a lengthy montage. So you’d think that after all that, there’d be a proper ending. Nope. What actually happens is they go to the sewage works and do some more dirty dancing in front of Johnny’s parents and a few of their friends. That’s it.

[CREDITS ROLL]

Philadelphia

Lifting the lid off America’s most notorious cheesemakers.

This is a Michael Moore type documentary, set to crumble the soft cheese and cracker visionaries, Philadelphia. Shrouded in controversy, even now rumours are rife that the whole film was an elaborate marketing ploy to increase disappointing sales of chocolate Philadelphia, hailed as “the folly of the cheesemakers” upon its release.

[MOSTLY SHOT WITH A HAND-HELD CAMERA, WHICH LED TO CHRONIC MOTION SICKNESS FOR MOST CINEMA AUDIENCES]

The documentary is narrated by a voice-over artist whose brief was “an American Patrick Stewart”. His response was to impersonate William Shatner. For the UK release, the producers went with Richard Madeley — who does his Ali G impression seven times, despite this not being in the script. This version is now only available to buy from websites registered in New Zealand, where Madeley is somewhat of a national hero after they mistook his impression for a biting satire on their Education Secretary.

The narration is set to a montage of photos. There are actually just six pictures, so the same ones are endlessly repeated with different Instagram filters, interspersed with low quality thumbnails from Google images. The story we hear focuses on the rumoured seedy underbelly of the Philadelphia cheese emporium — that the Executive Board share a penchant for clothing cats in various national dress, and then photographing them.

[WE SEE SOME BORING NEWS REPORTS]

It all started back in the ‘90s, widely considered as Philadelphia’s heyday. The legend goes that a now-forgotten pitch for an ad campaign showed a mouse drawing lipstick and a fake moustache on a cat. Apparently, PETA saw the footage and immediately petitioned to have it banned. Philadelphia Corps neither confirmed nor denied the allegations. But when a cat-hair covered pair of miniature lederhosen were found in a bin behind their offices, the rumours were fuelled. They continued to run rife, even snowballing to include tales of the Board trawling the streets for stray felines willing to do anything for a tin of Dolphin-friendly tuna.

[GRAINY NIGHT FOOTAGE WITH WAILING CATS HEARD IN BACKGROUND]

Legal action was threatened when an investigative journalist insisted that the Philadelphia Corporation took the internet cat (that one that’s always wearing a hollowed-out lime helmet) hostage in their executive disabled toilet.

I should add here that our intrepid documentary maker is a man (women don’t really do that sort of thing). Like a hairy Richard O’Brien dashing around the Aztec Zone of the Crystal Maze, we see shot after shot of him skirting Philly HQ, trying to get in.

[‘STREETS OF PHILADELPHIA’ BY BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN PLAYS]

He’s met with hostility, and lots of people putting their hand to the camera. Most are people saying (without saying) that they don’t want to say anything. The only exception being a man who just has a squeaky voice and is embarrassed about it.

It soon escalates and he does stunts to try and provoke them into talking. One involves stuffing 300 Garfield toys dressed as Andalusians into the MDs car. Another included Siegfried or Roy — whichever one got attacked by a tiger — being filmed getting a tattoo of the Blue Peter cats with “Purrrfect” underneath.

There is also an interview with an ex-employee who worked there too long ago for it to be relevant. The man is clearly old enough to remember cats being invented, and is very confused. He utters the phrase “I was promised hot pastries. Where are my hot pastries?” on more than one occasion. We learn nothing and the man is almost incomprehensible (with the exception of the hot pastry requests). But our documentary-maker insists that he’s pretty much sort of admitted Philadelphia Corps’ involvement in cat-gate.

So that we don’t forget the real underlying issue of the hit film ‘Philadelphia’, he digs a grubby finger into the creamy spread. He’s even bought it from Walmart, just to prove how evil it is. He also makes a big deal about how they only sell fattening food with zero nutritional value. However, he needs a new gun and they sell those, so doesn’t give Walmart too much of a hard time. That documentary is saved for another time.

[LOTS OF PIE CHARTS ARE SHOWN, SET TO ‘AGADOO’, TO LIFT THE SERIOUS TONE]

When it finishes, we don’t really get any closer to finding out what happened. However, just before the credits, the screen goes black and text appears — sort of like the ‘people who’ve died this year’ bit at the Oscars. It tells us that it turns out they didn’t exploit real animals at all. Instead, they used very small children in cat costumes. Knowing that his wife had been trying to get their daughter to break into the pageant circuit, in a surprise twist, the documentary-maker volunteers his own child in exchange for a year’s supply of spread.

We also find out that the old pastry guy died before the end of filming. He choked on a Ginster’s, but sadly nobody knew first aid or the Heimlich maneuver. Another life tragically lost due to a lack of awareness about aid.

Willow

A small boy/man with big ambition.

The first scene goes on for a while and has orchestra music banging on over some nice photos of a forest. It kind of looks like a screensaver you might get pre-loaded on a new computer. Basically all the things you’d expect to see in the woods, like trees and leaves and bears going to the toilet. But then… what’s this? An absolutely massive fly lands on the leafy vista! But then… what’s this (again)? It’s not a real forest at all. But a bonsai forest (or ‘borest’)!

[CREDITS APPEAR]

We don’t really know any of the names in the credits because they all look Chinese/Japanese/Korean. It’s also our first indication that it might be a subtitled movie. As dread creeps in and we debate turning it off completely, a massively Brummie accent booms over the audio. Relief! The film ‘Willow’ is actually set in Warwick and all in the English language. We won’t need to read anything after all!

[THE BOREST PICTURES DISAPPEAR AND WE BOTH HEAR AND SEE A BOY]

The voice belongs to a very small, fairly ugly child called Steve. Naturally, he’s picked on, as all unattractive children are. Particularly as despite having the appearance of an eight year old child, his voice seems to have broken. It sounds more like a man’s, as heard speaking very quickly from a telephone mouthpiece in a cartoon. It’s disconcerting. But as we see through some particularly harrowing bullying scenes (I won’t go into them here but one boy wants to bully Steve so much that he licks raw chicken with the express intention of developing diarrhoea and then releasing it into Steve’s bag), we do feel sorry for him.

[STEVE IS WALKING IN THE PARK TRYING TO BEFRIEND DOGS]

It’s in the park that Steve sees his first bonsai tree. And when his little face (disproportionate to his body) lights up, we’re happy too. Turns out the tree is just far away, which is a bit of a disappointment. But it’s not long before he sees a real bonsai tree owned by the kindly Japanese karate master next door, Mr Tamagotchi. They strike up a very close, but in no way inappropriate, relationship. Eyebrows are raised when the Japanese master instructs the child to wax him, but to be honest, most of us are just glad that Steve finally has a companion.

There’s just one thing missing from this idyllic situation. Much as Steve proper loves the bonsai, he realises that Tamagotchi’s collection has almost every type of tree but one — the willow. Tamagotchi tells him that it’s never been done before. The willow bonsai isn’t possible. But instead of being sad, it’s music to Steve’s ears. (To emphasise this, we actually hear some music. It’s Japanese-y type music that sounds so much like the theme tune to Takeshi’s Castle, the producers sued the filmmakers when they got wind of it. This explains why the movie has such a low budget and poor quality effects.)

[WITHOUT A WORD, STEVE WADDLES OFF HOME AND DIALS UP HIS INTERNET MODEM. THE WHOLE PROCESS, INCLUDING CONNECTION TIME, TAKES AROUND TEN MINUTES. ON DVD, THIS IS FINE AS WE CAN MAKE A CUP OF TEA. BUT IN THE CINEMA THIS FEELS LIKE AGES.]

Steve does what anyone would do if they were told something had never been done before. That’s right, he checked on Wikipedia. And when he saw that a ‘willow bonsai’ page didn’t exist, he set out to write it. And also grow one in real life. In a post-production interview, a cast member pointed out that even a cursory glance online reveals that weeping willow bonsai are actually one of the most common forms of the stunted tree. But as they’d already printed loads of promotional chopsticks saying ‘Willow’, the actor was subsequently sacked and replaced with Daniel Day-Lewis’ much older brother, also called Daniel (apparently a huge disappointment to his parents even from a young age).

As with many films of its type, the protagonist man-child Steve wholeheartedly believes that if he achieves this one fairly pointless thing, his life will do a complete turnaround. To emphasise how bad things are for Steve at the moment, we see him verbally abused by people everywhere he goes. “You idiot”, the ‘V’ sign and the classic “Make like a bonsai tree and leave” are all shouted/aimed at him in the background of almost every scene. It becomes tiresome to the viewer after a while but only serves to highlight Steve’s plight.

[THE CHORUS BUT NOT THE VERSES FROM MICHAEL JACKSON’S ‘EARTH SONG’ PLAYS]

After a short clip of him in the B&Q garden centre (for copyright reasons, all the logos are blurred out, sometimes covering Steve’s face by accident and making him look like a victim in a Crimewatch reconstruction), he has everything he needs. Seeds are planted, soil is watered, journal is written in (“Diary writer” is another scathing insult he faces on a daily basis). So when the bonsai seeds take root, we’re rooting for him too.

As the overall storyline is minimal at best, the bulk of the movie (almost 4.5 hours) focuses on his many attempts to grow the tree. It keeps dying. So, he has to start again, eleven, maybe twelve times. But as Steve rightly points out to Mr Tamagotchi (who by now, in fact has developed an unhealthy obsession with the boy), “Thirteen is lucky for some/me!”. However, this one also fails and we endure a further nine attempts before he cracks it. His quest is over. His life will now be changed forever/until the sequel. Because he’s done it — he’s created the world’s first dwarf willow in Warwick.

[CREDITS ROLL AGAIN, REPEATED FROM THE START]

The Silence of the Lambs

Nothing pulled the wool over his eyes. 


Hannibal Lecter is a divorced father of two. Anthony (the eldest) is a high achiever, as shown by the trappings of success — trophies and Twitter followers. Whereas Bill leaves a lot to be desired, and knows it. As well as being thinner (a sign of diminished prowess), he has a slight lisp (another indication of weakness) and an obsession with the beasts of the great plains — resulting in an unflattering nickname. Yet despite his obvious shortcomings, we’re meant to feel sorry for young Buffalo Bill. One particularly ‘poignant’ (it’s in inverted commas as it really isn’t very moving) scene even shows him drawing a family picture at school, showing his brother much larger than him. If anything, his complete disregard for proportion only serves to highlight his obvious inferiority. But we move on and view him as we’re intended to — with pity.

[YEARS LATER]

Against all odds, Bill has done pretty well and got a job with the FBI. And a case comes up with his name written all over it (in red pen). A man has been found dead in a zoo car park, with his left hand removed and a calling card stuffed in the stump that reads, simply: REVENGE (written in the ‘Neighbours’ font — likely to be your classic system typeface, ‘Brush Script Std’).

Surprisingly, this isn’t really explored and the case is pretty much dropped due to lack of funds (despite this potentially making for a seminal movie in the thriller genre). The FBI budget won’t stretch to a nationwide manhunt. Neither is Bill haunted by the unsolved case, as he’s more of a ‘work to live’ kind of guy.

[HIS DAD’S HOUSE]

Still, he’s required to do a few cursory checks that take him to his dad’s home town so stops for Sunday lunch. They have a McDonald’s drive-thru as Hannibal’s collecting the Happy Meal toys as part of a bet with a neighbour (this is fleetingly mentioned, and not really explained). But as soon as Bill arrives, his old feelings of inadequacy coming flooding back. Mainly as the house is covered in photos of his brother’s hot wife — who unlike Bill’s, wasn’t sourced from the internet after following a link on a dogging site. (He was actually looking for pictures of sheepdogs, but more of that later.)

During the dessert course — an apple pie that is still scaldingly hot despite being purchased almost 56 minutes ago — it all comes to a head and he runs off to his room crying. He still has three posters in there, one of Sabrina the Teenage Witch and two more of her aunts. This is to show that he’s sensitive, not gay (in Hollywood, there are no characters who are gay where this is not part of the storyline). Hannibal feels bad. He actually did think Bill was gay, and being a bit old school, made him do sports until he fancied girls. Ironically, it was this grounding in sport that helped Bill get his FBI job, but as the director points out in the commentary, some things are better left unsaid.

[THEME TUNE TO ‘ONE MAN AND HIS DOG’ IS HEARD]

Eventually, his dad coaxes him downstairs as his favourite programme is on, ‘One Man and His Dog’ (this is the part that explains the dogging site — Bill loves sheepdogs!). Since Downton Abbey, America can’t get enough of English county life, and so surprisingly for an obscure British show, it’s on NBC. This helps them bond, shown by them clinking beers and Hannibal doing the Budweiser ‘Wasssap’ thing. Even though nobody’s done this for a good 12 years, Bill still chuckles along, showing that all is forgiven.

[WE WATCH AN ENTIRE EPISODE OF ‘ONE MAN AND HIS DOG’ BEFORE PANNING BACK TO THEM]

“We could do that son”. And with those five words, they begin a training regime to enter next year. Despite sheep-herding being a touchingly beautiful, yet lost art, this bit is pretty short.

[A YEAR LATER]

The two men sit down to a meal the night before the final, years of harboured resentment and failure ebbing away as quickly as the fava beans and fine chianti are eaten and quaffed, respectively.

The morning of the sheepdog trials. After his wireless router losing connection as he hit ‘submit’ on the website, Bill discovers that he’s entered the ‘amateur’ category by accident. So he won’t be herding sheep — but lambs! He and his dog, Starling, haven’t trained for this! But he has no choice but to enter the pen.

The lambs are on edge. Starling growls. And in a flash (shown by a video clip in a close-up of Bill’s actual eye), we see the analogy for what it is — the dominant dog is his dad and the lambs are Bill! It’s very clever. We now also realise that this wasn’t very subtle at all and Starling the dog has had piercing blue eyes and spoken in received pronunciation the whole time – just like Hannibal!

[MUSIC PLAYS: AN ORCHESTRAL REIMAGINING OF BAHA MEN’S ‘WHO LET THE DOGS OUT’]

The lambs are bleating loudly. One by one, Bill tries to calm them down. But the technique he used on the older sheep — penetration — doesn’t work! Although a common practice in the professional category, the crowd see red when they discover what’s happening in the amateur pen. “They’re just woolly children for goodness’ sake!” they shout. And with that, the dog goes proper mental, ripping Bill and every last one of the lambs to shreds. Naturally, this takes quite a while. But nobody steps in (as we just learnt, Bill has annoyed them with his misguided sexual practices). But as Bill draws his final breath and the last animal falls, the crowd cease their chanting. And Hannibal comes running over to the sound of silence (this is where the name of the film really comes into its own).

He clings to his son and then heads off for a much-needed drink. The barman, seeing him covered in blood, refuses to let him in, where the film ends on the oft-quoted line (and consistent top seventy entry in Channel 4’s ‘1000 Best Puns in the Final Line of a Movie’), “Sorry, you’re barred”.

[CREDITS ROLL]

Anchorman

The inspiring tale of a man who never let anything weigh him down. 

 

Dead of night. A shadowy figure dumps a baby basket outside a building that says ‘Absolute Last Resort Orphanage’ over the top (so we don’t hate the mother for abandoning her newborn). Camera pans in. We see it’s actually a lobster pot, to symbolise that this child is like no other. A glint in the moonlight reveals why. What looks at first glance like a prosthetic leg is actually… an anchor!

[CUT TO PRESENT DAY, WHICH ACTUALLY ISN’T PRESENT DAY BUT ABOUT 150 YEARS AGO. THIS IS SHOWN BY STRAW ON COBBLED STREETS AND GRUBBY ORHANS STEALING APPLES OFF CARTS.]

The baby is now about 25 years old — a man, if you will. The anchor still very much in place of his leg. Not only that, but he’s also freakishly tall. In today’s society, he’d pay his way fixing pylons or appearing on Channel 5 reality TV. But in this world, the only job he’s fit for is down the docks. (Not like that though.) He’s a ship’s barnacle scraper. His leg helps to keep him anchored (don’t excuse the pun) in the swaying water, whilst his height means he doesn’t drown. I know what you’re thinking… sign me up! That sounds glamorous! It’s not. The sea salt plays havoc with his thick shiny hair (both head and chest). And the barnacles emit an unpleasant odour, a little like the inside of an artificial leg — which, as we know, anchorman doesn’t have. So he decides enough is enough, and packs a bag of provisions for a journey. Dried fruit, beef jerky and a bottle of milk (which unlike the other less perishable goods, turns out to be a bad choice).

[‘HERE I GO AGAIN’ BY WHITESNAKE PLAYS WHILST ANCHORMAN TRAIPSES WITH ONE OF THOSE STICKS TIED TO A SPOTTED RED HANDKERCHIEF ON THE END]

He sets off on a quest to find a woman with a similar affliction — an anchorlady. There is a scene that’s meant to be funny (but isn’t really) when his online search for ‘anchor love’ throws up some dubious porn sites. Then, on Google maps, he stumbles across a place called ‘Anchor City’ in New Zealand. He empties his savings and boards a plane. Sea travel was cheaper, but with his anchor leg on board, the ship wouldn’t move. It’s cost him everything — both money and dignity (the ship thing was more embarrassing than it sounds). But he finally arrives. The anticipation is pretty much unbearable, mainly because this part of the film goes very slowly and shows much more of the journey than is really necessary but as it cost a lot to make, the director is unwilling to edit it down. Then he gets to the gates, only to learn that ‘Anchor City’ is more of an industrial park, and actually the HQ of Anchor Butter! He feels like a right idiot. Especially as he’s lactose-intolerant, as shown by a scene earlier where he makes a big deal out of eating dry crumpets so that the audience would remember the fact later, and therefore enjoy this scene all the more.

Luckily, he turns on the TV (in the room he’s now in) and sees a talented news team doing a report on ‘Anchor Land’, home to other anchorfolk. Best of all, it’s just next door! (The director having spent all the budget on the first journey).

[STOOD AT THE IMPOSING CITY GATES]

After quizzing him about his business there and “finding a paraplegic MILF” being accepted, the guards let him in. Once inside, we see that Anchor Land is from an even more bygone era — specifically, the ‘olden times’. And everyone has a limb that’s an anchor! Some an arm, others a leg and for one unfortunate man, his genitals (we know this because anchorman sees him winking at a lady and asking if he can “drop anchor” in “her harbour”). Then our hero spots her… his one true love. She has an anchor for a leg too. That way, we know they’ll be compatible as life partners, despite having never met before. It’s almost as touching as someone just loving him for who he is, but we can only assume they’ll get on better as they’ll have plenty to talk about, anchor-wise.

[ACOUSTIC VERSION OF DISCO CLASSIC ‘ROCK THE BOAT’ BY HUES CORPORATION KICKS IN]

A montage of them dating happens, set to music. When it quietens, we hear them giggling at each other’s anchor tales. “When I was oiling my anchor up last winter, I mistook fake snow spray for WD40 and everyone thought I’d been trying to shag a snowman… again! A-ha ha ha ha ha ha!” and other similar anecdotes, each as witty as the last. The final clip shows anchorman getting down on one knee (I think you can guess which one! The non-anchor one.) and proposing. Her face says it all. But just as a back up, we also hear her answer — yes!

[ONE YEAR LATER — AS SHOWN BY A SINGLE TREE GOING THROUGH ALL THE SEASONS IN A PARTICULARLY ARTY SHOT THAT DOESN’T REALLY FIT]

They’ve opened a store that just sells kitchen scales called ‘Anchors A-weigh’. Being so niche, it’s not a huge success. Largely because they came up with the name and then built a business venture around it. So anchorlady sets up a cottage industry focused on her real passion — upcycled home furnishings and lighting designs. She just can’t enough of lamps. And it seems, neither would the people of Anchor Land. Comfortably well-off and now past the ‘looking fat’ phase of her pregnancy, anchorman and anchorlady live happily ever after. Despite the audience never learning the actual names of any of the characters.

Goldfinger

The story of a man who gave revenge the finger. 

[OPENING CREDITS SHOW OUR HERO, GOLDFINGER, DOING 'THE ROBOT' TO A POWER BALLAD]

We open on Goldfinger, a promising young touch-typist who patents a new technique dubbed ‘The Goldfinger’. It involves complex physics that I won’t go into here, but suffice to say, it’s frankly amazing — and well ahead of its time, typing-wise. But great success comes with great interest from a shadowy onlooker.

[FLASHBACK]

Here, we learn that they were childhood friends but Goldfinger blanked him at their school reunion (he’d let himself go a bit, so Goldfinger genuinely didn’t recognise him). We also see the boy saving him from a dog attack (played by the St Bernard from Beethoven but with red contact lenses to seem even more annoying). That way, Goldfinger knows that he owes him one, which may come up later. Also, the dog belonged to a man wearing a tuxedo, so that Goldfinger now associates tuxedos with evil (this will help later when he pursues Bond with disproportionate hatred).

[BACK IN THE PRESENT]

Goldfinger enters the touch-typing World Championships. It’s as big a deal as The X-Factor or Crufts in Goldfinger’s country, which looks a bit like Russia. Set to fast music involving guitars, a montage shows him rising through to the final. Much like The Karate Kid, or Dodgeball. So, to psyche himself up, he goes into his dressing room (which is by no means unusual for a touch-typing finalist)… but his nemesis is waiting! As Goldfinger tries to escape, the door slams on his finger. He’ll never win now! Or will he?! No, he doesn’t. Because his nemesis (who he still doesn’t recognise) planned it all!

[THE CHANGE IN FORTUNE]

By amazing coincidence, given our hero’s name, his finger has to be amputated. Now one digit short, he becomes increasingly bitter, shown by him sitting at a bar glugging shots of vodka and growing a beard. A drunk tramp sidles over — except that he’s actually a drunk, disillusioned scientist with a seemingly unbelievable, but very real, fear of computer keyboards. He offers to make a new finger for Goldfinger if he types all his emails for him (which surprisingly were around when the film was made). Goldfinger agrees. And in a very clever move, they design a finger made of gold! (Because of his name.) But not only that, it’s a Swiss army knife deal with gadgets built in. Even though he’s a glorified receptionist, they decide his finger should have a gun, knife and laser. It’s discussed that it also have a corkscrew but gold is deemed too soft a metal. This isn’t an issue for the weaponry though, for a valid reason that is explained in a deleted scene.

[PICKING UP THE PIECES… OR IS HE?]

So Goldfinger sets to work — getting the brews in, forwarding hilarious pictures of cats and of course, ploughing through the scientist’s correspondence. This includes a series of emails off a guy called Bond, James Bond, as part of a lengthy dispute on eBay (Bond sold him a joblot of DVDs that were Region 1 but didn’t state that on the listing). A resolution looks increasingly unlikely, and after one particularly underhand comment about Goldfinger’s mother, he sees red. What Bond doesn’t realise is that Goldfinger’s mother actually was a whore and he’s overly sensitive about it. That moment, Goldfinger vows to wreak revenge on Bond — spurred on by the fact his profile picture (which you usually wouldn’t see on eBay) shows Bond wearing a tux (which as we determined earlier, he hates).

[THE PRE-SHOWDOWN]

We see Goldfinger on various modes of transport, including a helicopter, until he reaches a front door. It’s opened by an unnamed security guard who he shoots with his gold finger (the finger having built-in padding that means this doesn’t hurt Goldfinger). Then another guard appears and Goldfinger stabs him! The padding has blunted the knife a bit, but the man still dies instantly and dramatically. Goldfinger creeps through the house until he hits a seemingly impenetrable door. There is a sign on it saying only lasers can cut through it. Camera pans to the remaining finger setting — laser. We hear the universal laser noise and the door falls down, revealing Bond pointing a gun in a tux (Bond is in a tux, the gun isn’t) and a woman (also wearing a tux, except that the trousers are fishnet tights) who runs off, doing the ‘call me’ hand gesture.

[THE ACTUAL SHOWDOWN]

A tussle between the two men commences. When the camera pans back, Bond is tied to an overly long table that wasn’t there before. Goldfinger courses his laser up the centre, starting at the furthest point from Bond. Despite cutting through the door in five seconds, it takes absolutely ages. Bond says, “I see you’re giving me the finger”. Goldfinger can’t think of a pun-based comeback so, remembering Bond’s slight on his own mother, says, “Like I did with yo momma”. He then passes the time by looking at Bond’s corkboard of photos. Most are of Bond on nights out or taking a picture of himself in a mirror with no top on, but then one catches his eye. It’s of two young boys. Initially this raises questions about Bond, until Goldfinger realises that one is Bond and the other is… himself! Bond is the boy that saved him from the dog when they grew up together, despite one being Russian-esque and the other being Scottish. The two men look at each other, realisation dawning (also, the sun is dawning at the exact same time to highlight this). Goldfinger remembers that Bond once saved him and now he must do the same.

[THE HAPPY ENDING]

He unties him and they get tipsy on Martini, reminiscing about that time Bond got off with Goldfinger’s sister — and the ensuing pregnancy scare. The final scene shows the two men doing Shirley Bassey covers on Bond’s karaoke machine. Credits roll.