Jim Broadbent

News, Reviews & Features
  • Bridget Jones's Baby

    Movie Review | Ed Williamson | 22nd September 2016

    "Men are like buses," says the Bridget Jones's Baby advert on the side of the ones currently making their way through school run-gridlock, possibly because we're awful and stained with last night's food and can't be relied on to turn up. Bridget's choices were often bad over the first two films, but the scripts usually ignored the fact that her men were worse. Three films in, the franchise seems to have caught up and started rewarding her.

  • Filth

    Movie Review | Neil Alcock | 4th October 2013

    Bruce Robertson is a cunt. A lying, thieving, cheating, racist, misogynist, homophobic shitstick who would sooner drug you and steal your watch than give you the time of day, and if he did give you the time of day it would be after looking at your own watch, which he has just stolen. He pinches kids' balloons, forces underage girls to nosh on his junk and screws his friends' and colleagues' wives. He's also a Detective Sergeant in Edinburgh's Lothian Constabulary, and probably the greatest lead character in cinemas this year.

  • The Iron Lady

    Movie Review | Ali | 7th January 2012

    The Iron Lady – from the creative team who brought you Mamma Mia! – is a curious beast; part political bio, part character study, it takes huge liberties in dissecting the professional and personal life of Lady Thatcher, yet fundamentally refuses to pass judgement on any of her policies. The aim was clearly to focus on Maggie the person, not Maggie the larger than life figurehead, but I'm not sure I really see the point of making a biopic on the country's most infamous Prime Minister while never actually bothering with any of her politics. You might as well make a movie on how Fred West was such a talented gardener.

  • Arthur Christmas

    Movie Review | Ali | 9th November 2011

    I always feel a little pang of guilt whenever I give a kiddy film a negative review, because obviously they are made for small, easily pleased children and not hardened, 30-year-old cynics who spend their evenings sitting in front of a computer thinking of witty put-downs while wearing Batman pyjamas and eating pies. Thankfully, with Arthur Christmas, I don't have to feel bad, because – brace yourselves – it's an absolute Christmas cracker. Hands off, Robbie Collin – that one's MINE.