Judgement Day

Michael McCrea (Cillian Murphy) owes a considerable amount of money to kingpin, Darren Perrier (Brendan Gleeson), who calls in the debt, giving Michael less than a day to come up with the cash or pay with his legs. Two henchmen, Ivan (Michael McElhatton) and Orlando (Don Wycherley), enforce the point by paying Michael a visit in his dingy flat. “You’ve four more hours until Perrier’s judgement comes down” says Orlando. Heading into the night, Michael agrees to help a career criminal, The Mutt (Liam Cunningham), rob a house for a cut of the profits – a seemingly foolproof scheme that ends with Michael on the run with his grouchy, estranged father Jim (Jim Broadbent) and traumatised next-door neighbour, Brenda (Jodie Whittaker). The relationship between Michael and his old man feels the strain when Jim reveals a terrible secret: “I’m dying, don’t you know”; The next time he falls asleep he will shift his mortal coil so Jim gulps down instant coffee to try to stay awake. Somehow, Michael must get his cut of the profits from The Mutt, declare his true feelings to Brenda who is broken-hearted and suicidal after another failed relationship, and settle his debt with the increasingly unhinged Perrier, while avoiding an early grave. Easy.

Not For The Faint Of Heart (Or Stomach)

Perrier’s Bounty treats shocking acts of cruelty as an everyday occurrence, whether it is Orlando taking a baseball bat to Michael’s legs or Perrier shooting nonchalantly at the four-legged companions of The Savage Canine Vernacular. Murphy meets each misfortune with a look of wide-eyed disbelief while Broadbent is hysterical as a crazy, sleep-deprived old timer, looking out for his boy as long as he can stay conscious.

Fast And Furious

Whittaker’s love interest is undernourished but she shares pleasing screen chemistry with her blue-eyed leading man. O’Rowe’s script is peppered with some choice one-liners, not least when Perrier learns two of his henchmen were gay lovers. The pace rarely slackens and Fitzgibbon ensures the final showdown draws copious blood. Overall, it’s a little light and airy (not to mention gory), but its a refreshing romp nonetheless.

Green at the gills

Where to begin. She’s a fiercely independent interior designer from Boston with money to burn; he’s a (potato?) chef from the nether regions of Ireland, about to lose his pub to the debt collectors. She’s never heard of the little town of Wales (is it a country? Who even cares eh?), and he’s never heard of electricity. Are they meant to be? Har de har har, ooh of course they are, you eejits, pull us another pint!

Is that a plane, or a time machine?

Mrs I’m-From-America, aka Anna Brady (Amy Adams) is deliriously happy with her cardiologist boyfriend Jeremy (Adam Scott) and as their four-year anniversary approaches, she becomes convinced he is about to get down on bended knee. He doesn’t (Ha ha oh the unexpected hilarity), and heads off to Dublin instead for a conference. Like a bastard. Anna hatches a plan to propose to Jeremy in Ireland on Leap Day cos, you know, that’s the only time you can do it if you’re just a rubbish girl.

However, her carefully plotted travel itinerary falls into disarray when bad weather forces the airplane to make a detour, far from her intended destination of Dublin. What’s a girl to do when she’s stuck in Wales? Where apparently you can only wear brown? Thankfully, handsome innkeeper Declan (Matthew Goode) promises to help her travel all of the way to Dublin in time for February 29, in exchange for the euros to save his ailing pub. The trek to the Irish capital is fraught with peril, and Anna and Declan fall victim to outrageous misfortune, most of which are cow and sheep based. They have to dodge the countless Irish-Catholics, fall into massive puddles, discover the wheel and follow the leprechauns to a pot’o'gold (or whatever), and along the way, shock and more shock, they start to feel some special fuzzy feelings for one another. Even the usual charms of Amy Adams can’t save the script, and considering Matthew Goode has already rinsed the film in interviews, it’s no surprise that he too lacks sparkle.

Once bitten…

It comes as no surprise that screenwriters Kaplan and Elfont were responsible for the Patrick Dempsey romantic comedy Made Of Honor, which painted Scotland as one big, bonnie, kilt-clad cliche. Expect nothing less from Leap Year, expect with a green lens instead of a tartan one. After the horror (the HORROR) of P.S I Love You, we hoped that Hollywood would give up the green-and-clovery ghost, but they’ve managed to outdo even that with this offensive, cliche filled monstrosity. Hollywood, you can’t do Ireland. Leave Ireland alone, OK?

How were you affected by Leap Year? Let us know below