Inside Man

After what can only be described as one heck of a weekend in London, Dr B and I collapsed in front of the telly and watched Inside Man on Sunday night. Here’s a quick brain-dump of filmic thinkings:

  • Clive Owen really can’t do an American accent, can he? He’s not as bad as Ewan Macgregor, but he just can’t shake his Britishness (unlike co-star Chiwetel Ejiofor, whose accent is, for all I know, impeccable). It kind of works in this film, as his character is meant to be a bit of sham anyway.
  • Willem Dafoe is one of the most dependable actors around. He makes versatility look easy. You can imagine him just turning up on set, finding out what role he’s playing that day, be it cop, crossbow-wielding vampire hunter or German marine biologist, and then just getting on with it, perfect every time, until teatime.
  • What is it about Jodie Foster that makes people use the C-word? She seems to get it a lot.
  • After the heist is all wrapped up, the film seems to forget to end. Dr B pointed out that this extended third act makes it seem a lot like a good seventies cop show: you’ve had the twisty-turny story, but you get to hang out with the lawenforcerman just a little bit longer.
  • In fact, I don’t know if it was written with this in mind, but there is a lot of potential in making a Detective Keith Frazier franchise: all you need each time is a smarter-than-average crime story, some great Manhattan location work and Mr Washington in a hat.
  • Hmm. Hang on a sec … just checking IMDB …
  • … I thought as much … it looks like there is going to be an Inside Man 2. And Clive Owen’s back. Not sure they’re going down the right road there. That particular story seems to be wrapped up, why drag it out? Give Frazier a new foe, a new situation. Double hmm.