See How They Run - Review

 

Whodunnits are having a bit of a resurgence recently. There are plenty of factors as to why, plays like “The Play That Goes Wrong” and films like Kenneth Branagh’s new Poirot films, “Enola Holmes,” Adam Sandler’s “Murder Mystery,” and, of course, “Knives Out.” It’s kind of hard to ignore a film whose success is so monumental that a sequel induces a bidding war that tops the original film’s total box office receipts. And if any of those films is the best comparison for “See How They Run,” it would be “Knives Out.” But make no mistake, while the existence of “Run” might be because of Johnson’s whodunnit, it certainly isn’t a carbon copy.

The film follows Inspector Stoppard, played by Sam Rockwell (“Moon,” “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri”), who, accompanied by the eager young Constable Stalker, played by Saoirse Ronan (“Little Women,” “Lady Bird”), must find the killer of Leo Köpernick, played by Adrien Brody (“The Pianist,” “The Darjeeling Limited”), an American film director in town to adapt a film out of The Moustrap, a famous play by Agatha Christie, and to celebrate its 100^th performance.

Rounding out the star-studded cast is Ruth Wilson (“The Affair,” “His Dark Materials”) as Petula Spencer, the owner of the theatre The Moustrap performs in, Reece Shearsmith (“The League of Gentlemen,” “Psychoville”) as John Woolf, the producer making the film adaptation, Harris Dickinson (“Trust,” “The King’s Man”) as Richard Attenborough, the real life actor who stars as the lead in the play, David Oyelowo (“Selma,” “Queen of Katwe”) as Mervyn Cocker-Norris, the playwriter writing the screenplay for the film adaptation, and Charlie Cooper (“This Country”) as Dennis, the awkward usher of The Mousetrap’s theatre.

The cast is stacked, the stage is set, and the humor is very unmistakably British, and there’s even a dash of the stilted camera angles of one Wes Anderson. It’s a lot to balance, and director Tom George (“This Country,” “Defending the Guilty”) and writer Mark Chappell (“Flaked,” “The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Todd Margaret”) manage to keep it all light and breezy for the film’s duration. Jokes fly fast, with little gags and puns sprinkled at a breakneck pace. It’s the kind of film that makes jokes out of characters’ names, like that of Ronan’s obsessive note taking young constable determined to find the killer whose name is Stalker.

Suffice it to say that the film’s tongue is planted firmly in its cheek and never removed. Thankfully, the same can be said for the actors, as everyone is clearly operating on precisely the right wavelength to make this material work. As one would expect, the stars of the show are, of course, the two leads, Rockwell and Ronan. Rockwell maintains a delicate balance between that of a drunken oaf and an Inspector who’s clearly still good at his job despite his perpetual drunkenness and lackadaisical attitude.

He’s contrasted fabulously by Ronan, who absolutely steals the entire picture. Her earnest attitude is an initial delight to watch and further becomes an engrossing character arc as you watch her grapple with the various clues and whether to go against her own instincts or the advice of Inspector Stoppard. The Oscar nominee puts just as much effort into this, a much sillier role than she’s played before, as her award-winning dramatic roles and it pays off wonderfully.

Where things really excel is in that previously mentioned sense of humor. Not only does it play with traditional filmmaking whodunnit cliches, but also just the general idea of a mystery film like this. Flashbacks hop around making fun of themselves, the screen literally divides itself at multiple moments, and characters wander around going in and out of doorways without any discernable direction; it doesn’t so much poke fun at the conventions as much as it prods with a stick the size of a tree trunk. Yet it somehow never gets annoying or grating, maintaining a delightful air of ease until the credits role. If “Knives Out” was the whodunnit being reinvented for modern sensibilities, this is a classic whodunnit with a winking eye, made for people who love these kinds of stories, warts and all.

If you love the creakiness of the old stories of Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers, or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and feel adrenaline come rushing into your brain when the detective steps up to explain the entire plot in the third act, then not only will you likely love “See How They Run,” but you’re exactly the kind of person this film was made for. As a love letter to the mystery genre on both stage and screen, it’s a wonderfully cheeky tale. For those less inclined by the whodunnit genre through, your mileage may vary. 4/5