Extra Ordinary (2019, Mike Ahern and Enda Loughman)

A few minutes into Extra Ordinary, after a stylized prologue and then opening sequence, I realized it was a low budget marvel. The film has under five locations and six characters. Directors Ahern and Loughman widen the proverbial lens to make it feel bigger with choice location shooting—being able to do the driving in the car stuff well does a lot—and, of course, the excellent special effects. Extra Ordinary is a ghost comedy, meaning there need to be a lot of ghost effects, and they’re able to execute all of them well, most of them comedically. The supernatural in the film is a combination of mundane and uncanny, with an understanding the latter is only possible with some filmmaking finesse, otherwise you get the former.

The film opens with hilarious (film in the film) eighties VHS series on the supernatural. It’s one of the only times it really feels low budget because the VHS filter they use still looks way better than actual VHS would. A very amusingly straight-faced Risteard Cooper hosts the show.

In the present, Cooper is long dead; something went wrong with the supernatural and now adult daughter Maeve Higgins still blames herself for it, even though sister Terri Chandler tries to assure her she’s not. Higgins is a driving instructor who used to do some other kind of work. Turns out she was a medium for hire, but has given up the trade. All she wants is driving instruction gigs, all anyone ever calls about is ghost busting.

So when she gets a message from Barry Ward for driving lessons, she thinks it’s a real gig. Only then it turns out Ward’s being haunted by his dead wife and daughter Emma Coleman told him he had to call Higgins or she was moving out.

Throw in American-rock-star-in-tax-exile Will Forte who’s trying to get his Satanic ritual together and needs a virgin, setting his sights on teen Coleman, and Extra Ordinary’s got the ingredients for a rather eclectic ghost comedy.

The make and break of the film turns out to be Higgins, who’s phenomenal from the first moment and for a while it’s not clear if the directors just really know how to direct her or if it’s Higgins. It seems to be Higgins, who’s able to keep character development going even when she’s got to be the most static one in the film. Not to knock the directors; they do an exceptional job—and it’d be impossible to image the film looking, sounding, or feeling any different—but Higgins is still the star.

Ward’s a fine sidekick for her; she’s got to introduce him to the supernatural around town. He’s always good, sometimes better. He just starts better than he ends up so it’s not as easy to be excited about his performance. He’s got a big swing and it’s a hit, but like just enough to get to first base. Nothing special. Not like Higgins being able to carry the film.

Then the other two main stars are Forte and Claudia O’Doherty as his wife. Forte’s awesome. The film’s got great timing, Forte’s got better timing. It’s incredible how well he sells the Satanic one hit wonder trying to get back on the charts with his terrible music.

O’Doherty’s always funny as the needling wife, though it’s definitely one of the film’s shallower parts.

Ahern and Loughman’s composition is almost always excellent. In the handful of shots where it goes a little wrong, it’s obviously something about the budget. Cinematographer James Mather works wonders and the film looks great, but there’s just something off every once in a while. Usually reaction over the shoulder shots actually.

Great editing from Gavin Buckley, great music from George Brennan. Again, it’s a low budget marvel.

And they’re able to do a big effects sequence.

Extra Ordinary is an extremely well-made comedy and a great showcase for Higgins.

Des (2020) s01e03

So, now we get the episode about how sad it makes Daniel Mays to bring harm to people but he does it anyway. It’s the joke about Americans making movies about how sad we are we had to kill a bunch of BIPOC civilians. Only here it’s Mays forcing attempted murder victim Laurie Kynaston to testify against David Tennant and defense attorney Pip Torrens tearing him apart. It stands up for a couple reasons, one it’s entirely predictable Torrens is going to tear him apart because it turns out Tennant has seemingly engineered his entire prosecution and is prepared for all the witnesses against him. Second, Mays ought to know something’s up.

This episode comes the closest to thinking Mays is giving a transfixing performance, with director Lewis Arnold frequently cutting to Mays for reaction shots only he never has any reaction shots because Mays has one, sad expression. Oh, and also all the manipulations of the episode don’t actually matter once it gets to the conclusion because of how the verdict goes. There’s the story and there’s where writer Kelly Jones (Jones’s sole entry is this episode) takes it instead.

Though having a trial episode where Tennant is mostly silent is another thing; why watch “Des” if not for Tennant. He’s got a couple good scenes, but he’s a diabolical mastermind here. “Des” has melodramatic theatrics but it doesn’t have a lot of tangible reality anymore. Even if it does awkwardly open with footage of the actual Dennis Nilsen at his trial. Because… they want show how close they got Tennant’s hair, I guess. It does nothing else for the episode.

There’s also a lot more of Mays and Jason Watkins together, which is just a chemistry vacuum.

I’m not sure what “Des” needs, other than some recasting, rewriting, and maybe a better director. A point would probably help. The big question is whether Tennant’s got some undiagnosed mental health condition explaining him living around dead bodies for years at a time or if he’s just a master planner who wanted an insanity plea. The show doesn’t make any decision—it ignores the question as best it can—and Tennant’s intentionally cryptic too.

Also the text epilogues reveal some information they should’ve baked into the narrative. And, based on the text, they completely got Watkins’s person wrong. But whatever, it’s over, who cares?

“Des” is okay for a Tennant stunt cast and it has moments of genuine interest but… nah. Mays and Watkins are just too flat. Especially Mays, who’s somehow more tedious in his performance than the same Droopy Dog cartoon on repeat.

Des (2020) s01e02

While David Tennant is baring his broken soul to biographer Jason Watkins, DCI Daniel Mays is trying to identify Tennant’s numerous victims so they can properly charge him. There are also more attempted murders, with people coming forward.

And even though Tennant says he’s got fifteen victims—and the morgue says possibly twenty—and there are the seven confirmed attempts, Scotland Yard is threatening to shut Mays down. They don’t want to keep paying for the missing person identifications. Gives Mays a lot to mope about. He’s in an especially bad mood when Tennant asks him to find about his dog, then tells Mays he killed a famous missing person.

Said famous missing person is a Canadian tourist and Mays reopening the investigation pisses off Ron Cook because Mays didn’t ask him. Why didn’t Mays ask him? Unclear. Cook starts his yelling saying he would’ve okayed it or something so… it’s just Mays not doing things right. While Luke Neal’s script is ostensibly trying to show Mays’s diligence, all we find out about him this episode is he ignores things and is a disinterested partner, husband, and father. I’ve been waiting to find out the reason for his divorce is he’s closeted, hence his reactions to Tennant—we find out right at the end of the episode Watkins wants to write about him because he’s gay and Watkins is gay and Watkins doesn’t want the book being done by some homophobic piece of eighties shit—but no. Mays isn’t divorced because he’s gay. He’s on his fourth marriage because British women love apparently Droopy Dog cops who whine about wanting to see their kids but don’t do anything about it.

He also misses clues. Chanel Cresswell, who’s rather good for “Des,” like… there isn’t much in the way of standout supporting performances but Cresswell comes close—she thinks her ex might be one of the victims and drops a major clue in her statement and if it ever registers with Mays, we don’t find out. Though he is the only cop smart enough to think if you kept a murdered person’s possessions you might clean off the fingerprints.

Then there’s a brief thread about Scotland Yard being pissed off about Watkins writing a book and Mays never acknowledges he heard about it and didn’t follow up. Not even to himself.

The stuff with Watkins and Tennant’s good—Tennant’s got a lot of musing on his motives and the source of his murderous impulses–and Watkins is definitely a bit better than last episode. Not enough. And Mays is still a wet towel.

The ending’s a surprise (though also not really because Neal ties it to another twist). So… effective cliffhanger, let’s call it.

But with only one more… “Des” has pretty clearly hit its quality ceiling. The missing persons stuff is fascinating? A documentary would probably be better.

Des (2020) s01e01

“Des” opens with contemporary news footage from 1983 with Margaret Thatcher talking about how she’s Thatchering people and then something about an influx of young men to London who find it’s not what they thought.

This opening is going to have nothing to do with the story. It’s not even a good stylistic match for the narrative style of the show.

“Des” is about serial killer Dennis Nilsen, based on a book by Brian Masters; the opening titles gives the title of the book and the whole “at the request of the survivors… out of respect for the dead…” bit. Obviously not the Fargo bit but you know. The true story crap.

It’s important to pay attention because otherwise when Jason Watkins shows up towards the end of the episode and is fascinated with the case, it initially played to me like he knew the serial killer, played by David Tennant. Mostly because I didn’t pay attention to the name of the book author in the opening titles.

The show centers around Droopy Dog sad copper Daniel Mays, who’s having a hard time with his fake subplot about his divorce and sons. He gets a nuisance call about bones in a sewer drain; the caller thinks they’re human, Mays thinks they’re chicken bones.

Nope.

They’re human and the suspect is Tennant. He’s only technically a suspect because he immediately confesses upon encountering the police, though it’d be hard not to confess since his apartment’s filled with cut up dead bodies. Except there are only three in the apartment, he’s killed at least fifteen.

Only Tennant doesn’t remember any details for identifying his victims, he didn’t get their names, so the cops aren’t sure he’s really a serial killer or something. Well, Mays is sure, but he’s not very authoritative as he mopes. His boss, an effective with nothing to do Ron Cook, tells him to tread carefully.

As a procedural, a lot of it is good. Tennant’s pretty good in a “cast against type” part. He’s closer to fascinating than not, which is good. Unfortunately, Mays and Watkins are both blah.

Luke Neal’s script manages to be simultaneously well-paced and draggy. Lewis Arnold’s direction is fine. It’s okay, good for the Tennant. Mays and Watkins need to get better fast for it to be anything more.