Indy Datta braves two of the year’s worst reviewed films in one weekend.
The possibly mythical regular reader of MostlyFilm may remember that your correspondent has previously expressed a certain fondness for the runts of the cinematic litter: the shitty Britcoms raised on a diet of tax breaks and broken biscuits, then barely released to the profound indifference of audiences everywhere, to the extent that one screening in a windblown suburban Cineworld before a chastened retreat to DVD can be accurately described as “everywhere”. Imagine my joy, then, when the review the editor had penciled in for me for today (Cloud Atlas, narrow-escape fans) fell through, leaving him with a slot to fill and me with an excuse to see the latest Danny Dyer vehicle, Run For Your Wife.
MostlyFilm 