A Fish Called Wanda

Charles Crichton’s final film, A Fish Called Wanda follows a crew of criminals (Jamie Lee Curtis’ Wanda, Kevin Kline’s Otto, Michael Palin’s Ken, and Tom Georgeson’s George) as they’re forced to cozy up to a stiff-lipped barrister (John Cleese’s Archie) in an effort at retrieving their stolen loot. There are certainly plenty of elements within A Fish Called Wanda that work exceedingly well, with Kline’s continually (and increasingly) captivating performance undoubtedly ranking high on the picture’s list of palpable pleasures, and yet Crichton, working from Cleese’s screenplay, delivers a perpetually erratic narrative that often seems to miss just as much as it hits. (There is, for example, an subplot involving Ken’s murder of three dogs that’s both unfunny and deeply misguided.) It’s clear, then, that the movie benefits substantially from its stellar acting and proliferation of admittedly hilarious interludes and set-pieces (eg Otto’s inevitable comeuppance remains a highlight within the proceedings, to be sure), although A Fish Called Wanda‘s needlessly prolonged running time ultimately does contribute heavily to its lamentably uneven attmosphere (ie there are some serious lulls here, especially within the film’s exposition-heavy opening stretch) – which ultimately cements the movie’s place as a decent yet inconsistent comedy that never quite lives up to the potential and promise of its best attributes.

**1/2 out of ****