Ben Stiller reprises his role as a former model in a throwaway but amusing sequel
London SW7 Royal Albert Hall
[a]Morcheeba[/a] are [a]M-People[/a] with a [a]Fatboy Slim[/a] album...
For one night only, while playing the Albert Hall, bands are officially allowed to be Dire Straits. Even Morcheeba - those sensible dubby funk soul brothers and sisters who sell records to smart young people with ironed combat trousers - have cleaned up their already sanitised act.
This is a special night though, one for the parents. A chance for singer Skye, swathed in paper-white robes, to revel in her band's pretty, designer joss-stick ambience, and for axe-hero Ross Godfrey to dedicate a squiddly blues scrape to his mother while smoking a fag before 'Trigger Hippie'. That's his pocket money stopped, then.
Sadly, that's as dangerous as it gets. But perhaps that's the whole point of Morcheeba: they're the slick commercial outfit who hid in the back of the trip-hop bandwagon while all the other pretenders were rumbled. And now it's too late: they've arrived with their melting pot of Ry Cooder slithering, fluffy hip-hop, velvet vocals and strings, coaxing the lighter-waving crowd into grim audience participation. A doe-eyed schmaltz through Gershwin's 'Summertime' gets the biggest cheer, while later everyone stares, embarrassed, as an orange-boilersuited member of New Kingdom gibbers over funky drumbreaks.
Morcheeba are M People with a Fatboy Slim album. Carry on up the charts, regardless, then.
It’s not quite the superhero film revolution we were promised, but it sure as hell is entertaining
Zachary Cole Smith has overcome a multitude of problems to make this intensely powerful album
The 'Oscar-bait' drama fails to fully translate the emotional weight from page to screen
Ralph Fiennes shines in this scorching and deceptive drama