See How They Run

This period comedy blends whodunit mystery with an affectionately satirical send up of showbusiness pomposity, featuring a fantastic cast that are clearly all enjoying themselves.

Premise: London’s West End, 1953: Inspector Stoppard (Sam Rockwell) and Constable Stalker (Saoirse Ronan) are called in to investigate the murder of a sleazy Hollywood director (Adrien Brody) during the celebrations for the 100th performance of Agatha Christie's play, The Mousetrap.

Review:

It’s been said that Rian Johnson’s Knives Out (and its sequel, Glass Onion) reinvigorated the whodunit genre, and it’s easy to see the influence of Rian Johnson’s masterpiece in See How They Run. Both films blend the comedy and mystery genres together, and both do so in a knowing, meta way.

That said, that’s probably where the similarities end, and See How They Run is a very different film from the Benoit Blanc mysteries. Whereas Rian Johnson’s films are very much whodunits with a vein of comedy, See How They Run is much more of a farcical comedy with whodunit trappings.

“…the film is never better than when it wholeheartedly embraces the comedy…”

In fact, See How They Run is never better than when it wholeheartedly embraces its comedic elements, and the first half of the film (which is arguably the more comical) is by far the more enjoyable half. The film opens with a section narrated by the soon-to-be-deceased Hollywood movie director Leo Köpernick (played by Adrien Brody) that sends up all the tropes and cliches of the whodunit genre. From there, we’re introduced to Inspector Stoppard (Sam Rockwell) and Constable Stalker (Saoirse Ronan), one of the most enjoyable movie double acts in some time. Stoppard is world-weary and jaded, with a career that’s clearly stalled thanks in part to his messy personal life, while Stalker is his polar opposite, excitable and enthusiastic, but extremely quick to jump to conclusions.

Once Police Commissioner Harold Scott (played brilliantly by Tim Key) orders the two of them to work together on the case, the interplay between Stoppard and Stalker is responsible for some of the film’s funniest moments (including a brilliant exchange where they discuss what Stalker is jotting down in her notebook).

“…Sam Rockwell & Saoirse Ronan are the comedic centre of the film…”

And although Sam Rockwell (who sports a surprisingly passable British accent in this) and Saoirse Ronan are the comedic centre of the film, they’re surrounded by a wealth of British talent - David Oyelowo in particular stands out as an overly pretentious screenwriter, but the film also has Ruth Wilson as the theatre producer, Harris Dickinson (following on from his breakthrough role in The King's Man) as lead actor Richard Attenborough, Reece Shearsmith and Sian Clifford as the movie producer and his wife, with Shirley Henderson cameoing as Agatha Christie herself. All of them seem to be having a great time, not only playing larger-the-life versions of their (in many cases, real) characters, but also sending up the fickle nature of the business they call show.

But as much fun as the first half of the film is, the second half doesn’t quite match it. This might be in part because in the second half the focus shifts more towards the whodunit mystery rather than the farcical comedy, and the more serious thriller elements don’t sit entirely comfortably alongside the comedy. It might also be in part because the comedic elements just work better than the mystery elements, which when all is said and done, do play out in accordance with the same tropes and cliches that Leo Köpernick was bemoaning in his opening narration (although that was no doubt a deliberate choice on the filmmakers’ part).

“…arguably works better as a farcical comedy than a whodunit mystery…”

Arguably, the film works better as a farcical comedy than a whodunit mystery, and it’s at its best when it embraces the farcical comedy, when it lets its cast off the leash, and when it plays with the meta-comedy and word-play. All of which is so much fun that you can forgive the film losing its focus a little in the final act with an arguably underwhelming denouement to the whodunit plot.