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British sculptor Laurence Edwards’ striking bronze figures, Walking Men (2018-2022), have taken up residence in the grounds of Blenheim Palace, where they will be on display until 10th June.

​Laurence Edwards said of his creation: “These five 8ft ancient bronze figures pass through an iconic English view, on their search for a place, where have they come from, where are they going, what are they thinking?”

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The 8ft tall figures are seen to be anti-heroic and seem to have come from the earth itself. Branches, leaves and clods of clay are woven through them, making it unclear where human and ground begin and end. 

​The raw materials from which they have been cast, have been pushed, pulled and gouged into shape ‘with a visceral energy that makes the artist’s act of creation palpable’. 

​Heather Carter, Managing Director, Blenheim Palace, commented: ”We are delighted to welcome Laurence Edwards’ five Walking Men to Blenheim Palace.  

​Images courtsey of Pete Seaward

“These remarkable pieces set against the backdrop of the Palace allow our visitors to experience art at its most incredible within an awe-inspiring setting. This installation is with us until 10th June 2024, and we encourage people to visit us quickly to enjoy and appreciate

Blenheim Palace is home to the Dukes of Marlborough since 1705, Blenheim Palace was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1987. Set in over 2,000 acres of ‘Capability’ Brown landscaped parkland and designed by Vanbrugh in the Baroque style, it was financed by Queen Anne, on behalf of a grateful nation, following the first Duke of Marlborough’s triumph over the French in the War of the Spanish Succession.

​Today it houses one of the most important and extensive collections in Europe, which includes portraits, furniture, sculpture and tapestries. Blenheim Palace is also the birthplace of one of Britain’s most famous leaders, Sir Winston Churchill, and it was his father who described the vista on entering the Estate from the village of Woodstock as the ‘finest view in England’.

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As The Sequel to The Most Derided Movie of 2023 Hits Cinemas, We Ask: Is it Sweet as Hunny or Just Plain Pooh? The Answer May Suprise You,…

I feel it’s important to give a bit of context to a film with such an infamous history. It’s easy to go into a sequel expecting trash because the first movie wasn’t that great. It’s an easy trap to fall into.

I didn’t want to do that. I went into Blood and Honey 2 knowing what it was a sequel two and, in explaining my eventual score, I think it’s important to bring you with me on that.

Director Rhys Frake-Waterfield and Producer Scott Jeffrey didn’t set out to make a a great movie with the first Blood and Honey in 2023. They’ve been very honest about what it was: a direct-to-DVD quickie that caught a zeitgeist and won a cinema release (and notoriety) that it was never designed to support.

Reviewers trashed it, Razzies were won and it seemed that the whole world was throwing poo at Pooh,… which, looking back at it, seems fair, if a little unfortunate for the guys behind the scenes.

But after making a cool £5 million in return (from a £20,000 budget and a 6 day shoot – one of the highest investment-to-return ratios in movie history), distributors ITN gave Rhys and Scott what they wanted for the sequel: time and money.

So if the First Blood and Honey was the movie they were forced to make, Blood and Honey 2 would be the movie they wanted to make. But the question remains: is it a good one?

Let’s talk about it.

A Mixed Bag,… But A Promising One.

Performances are much improved across the board. Scott himself pulls double duty, stepping into the shoes of Christopher Robin. It’s a gentle and immediately likeable performance which makes this Christopher someone to root for.

Mr. Robin is a muddle of personal scars, the most substantial being the kidnap of his younger brother when he was a child. Now faced with the barbed disbelief of most of the town, many of whom think him a murderer, this Chris comes out swinging in the final act and it’s testament to the script and performance that I felt like cheering him on.

The other human performance of particular note was Thea Evans as Bunny Robin – Chris’ younger sister: a sweet child with a habit of mutilating soft toys. Her interplay with Scott felt like the emotional core of the movie, and was beautifully played by both.

Which brings me to the first issue that I need to address.

Pooh confronts Bunny. We love Bunny and don’t want anything to happen to Bunny. Cut away – Bunny is missing! Oh no!

And then,… she’s just back at the end with a single simple line of explanation, unharmed.

Sadly, this is one of many perplexing edits and choices that let the movie down. Some – like Owl’s chase at the end – seem to be foisted by the demands of a set runtime. There are clearly entire sequences on a digital cutting room floor and that’s unfortunate because it’s so obvious.

It robs the movie of payoffs that the script sets up at the start. I might have sacrificed a few lesser kills in the Rave scene for proper resolution at the end. An end which just,… ends.

I could feel the Director’s Cut. I would have preferred it in the cinema release.

The infodump from Simon Callow’s entertainingly fruity Cavendish felt a little too long, too. The scene just about worked but there’s a rule of thumb in storytelling: whenever possible, show, don’t tell. We were told a lot. I would have preferred to discover the back story in a more organic way.

But, swinging back to the positives, there was a backstory! And a reasonably engaging one.

We discover why the Pooh Crew are out there in 100 Acre Wood, and why they were drawn to young master Robin in the first place. It’s solid, entertaining b-movie fare. It makes sense. It wraps things up. It answers questions I had.

It worked. Considering there was no story at all in the first one, that’s got to be a big tick in the “much improved” box.

Also in the “much improved” box: take a bow Pooh and Company.

The creatures themselves had a considerable upgrade, thanks to Harry Potter prosthetics team The Prosthetics Studio. Gone are the goofy, ungainly masks of the first: these new critters are entirely different beasts. Literally.

Not only do they look much, much better, they also have more personality. They speak this time round and the prosthetics allow them emote. Tigger is the insane Krueger-esque psychopath, Owl is the needling ringleader, Pooh is the vengeful unit and Piglet,… RIP Piglet. Poor piglet.

An essential demand of slasher films like this is that the audience enjoys the company of our killers and this time around,.. we kinda do. They’re still a bit hokey but this time it works. There’s even a take on Poohsticks which had the audience roaring with laughter.

We miss them when they’re not on screen.

There are a few things I’d have preferred were not on screen, though.

While the budget was a considerable increase, this was still a relatively low budget affair and there are a few things it’s best that you don’t attempt without an expensive effects studio at your back. Owl flying is one of them. Tigger’s tail is, on occasion, another.

Some of the gore, too, looked like what it was: digital. It didn’t rip me entirely out of the moment, as digital effects were pretty sparce, but I did wince.

Which brings us to the thing that gorehounds reading this really want to know: what are the kills like?

One of the clearest things on display in Pooh 2 is that the film-makers understand their audience. They’re making a horror film for the Terrifier crowd and, to this end, they don’t disappoint.

The kills are insane. Often creative (bear trap!), frequently gory and practically realised, never less than entertaining. This is gorehound fodder that makes audiences shriek, laugh and groan – often within seconds. The audience I watched it with frequently punched the air.

If I had one criticism, some of the kills felt a bit mean spirited – Chris’ Mum, especially. It just felt,… unjustly awful.

We love kills. We love to be entertained by them in these kinds of films,… but tone matters. Who you kill, when and why,… get it right and it’s a hoot. Step a bit far and it’s a bitter pill.

Largely, however, I felt that Frake-Waterfield stays mostly in the “highly entertaining” realm and that’s what’s going to keep audiences lapping up the blood and, indeed, honey.

Highly Entertaining.

And that’s where I find my reviewer’s heart going when I think about this movie: “Highly Entertaining”.

Because it was.

Rhys, Scott and writer Matt Reeves understood the brief of a good horror movie: entertain me.

At no point in the movie did I feel bored. The characters were good, the creatures were good, the acting was good, the music was excellent (major props to the returning Andrew Scott Bell, who delivers a great score!) and the kills were FUN.

This was a crew that looked into the face of the status quo – the amorphous wall of critics and naysayers – after the drubbing their first film received,… And slowly rose a finger. A team who delivered a movie that is loud, brash, heartfelt, ridiculous, vicious, gory and, yes entertaining.

Is it perfect? No. Honestly, it’s a bit of a mess in many places, and there are times when it looks as cheap as it, ultimately, remains.

But I came out of it barely caring about the faults: for the first time in many years, I came out of a cinema having had FUN. Having felt a connection with the filmmakers rather than the demands of their focus groups.

I appreciate that – it was, in a very odd way, charming – and that’s just enough to paper over the cracks and give hope for the future of the upcoming Poohniverse.

Final Score:

6.5/10

Fyodor Dostoyevsky was a Russian novelist towards the end of the 19th-Century, famous for such works as Crime and Punishment and The Brothers Karamazov. Amongst his shorter stories is The Dream Of A Ridiculous Man, about an ordinary man who finally realises that nothing matters so decides to shoot himself. Beforehand, he falls asleep and has a dream which, upon waking, has changed his view of the world and life as a whole. In the story, he tells us of his vision for the future.

Billed as a ‘thought-provoking yet hilarious exploration of human nature’, sadly the play sets itself up for a fall. It stumbles through far too many genres and styles like a tipsy drinker weaving through tables and chairs whilst heading for the bar…

But there is much to like! It’s a one-man show, calmly performed by Greg Hicks. He is assisted by a wonderful armoury of lighting and sound effects, along with original music and graceful choreography.

Herein lies its weakness – the phrase ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ comes to mind. So much artistry is thrown in with so little coherence that it dilutes the message and dulls the sharpness of the point of the production, which must surely be the short story upon which it is based. It lacks the urgency which the man’s vision deserves. After all, he is trying to tell us something he believes to be important, to keep us listening, to persuade us… the whole feel is one of cosiness and safety – there’s no shock or peril, very little variation of dark and light… it is, dare I say it, beige.

It may gain some edge as the run continues. I really do hope so, because there is so much quality on show here.

Paul Vates.

Photography Mark Senior

Writer/Director Laurence Boswell

Designer Loren Elstein

Lighting Designer Ben ormerod

Sound Designer Gary Sefton

Movement Director Gary Sefton

Composer Harrison White

Running Time 75 minutes – no interval

Dates until Saturday 20th April 2024

Check with the theatre for show times

Venue Marylebone Theatre, 35 Park Road, London NW1 6XT

Box Office Tickets are £26.50 and available from:

www.marylebonetheatre.com/productions/the-dream-of-a-ridiculous-man

Instagram @marylebonetheatre

Twitter @MaryleboneTHLDN

Facebook @MaryleboneTheatre

Margaret and Dick were walking Rosie and Polly along a country track on the way to the little stream.

‘Why,’ stamped Margaret, staring ahead. ‘Do people do that? Poo bag, please Dick. Now.’

‘Really, they should pick it up,’ said Dick, groping. ‘Oh no, I have used all mine.’

Margaret fumbled in her pockets, tissues out, dog treats out, old co-op receipt. old post office receipt now. 2nd class book of stamps out.’ ‘Why,’ Asked Dick, ‘don’t you empty your pockets, from time to time?’

‘Never mind that. I have found my stamps. This could be a good morning after all.’

‘And a poo bag?’

‘I have two more pockets,’ soothed Margaret, knowing that Dick has a special pocket for poo bags, a special pocket for tissues, an inside pocket for receipts, and a second inside pocket for phone. Margaret doesn’t know how she came to live with someone with such a tidy mind. Sometimes she hears Dick asking the flagpole how he came to live with someone who was so dreadfully, awfully untidy, and who empties her pockets sometimes, but then filled them up again, in no particular order.

Finally Margaret found her poo bag, tucked up her jumper sleeve beneath her waterproof coat. She realised she had put it there, instead of her pocket, which was why there were so very many tissues in every pocket.

She gave Dick Polly’s lead to hold, and approached the poo. It was rather a large one. She felt cross all over again. She turned back to Dick, and started to say, ‘Really, it is too bad.’

But Dick was pointing, wagging his forefinger at the poo. (Margaret is sorry to keep saying poo, but needs must). His mouth was working, but no words.

Margaret turned back to the poo. It seemed it was once more, women’s work. But … Lord … Arrrgh … The poo … was moving, yes it was. Just a bit, then it sort of fell on its side. It had a little hand – yes it did, and another. Then there was a sort of shiver (not not from Margaret and Dick, but they felt like shivering.)

‘I’m holding the dogs,’ Dick said. ‘You’d better check things are …’

‘Are what?’ said Margaret creeping forward, poo bag in her hand. But what good was a poo bag if there was a sort of hand. The pile was back as it had been.

Urghh. Ooooh. How. Whaaat?

Margaret reached it, she bent over, she really looked. Was it a frog? But … There was another. Yes, two frogs, but there was another, sort of lying over the heads of the two frogs, and then, when she tried to count the legs, there was another set of legs and arms, all with hands, these two were sort of wrapped round the head of the two frogs.

Margaret breathed in. She put her poo bag back in her pocket. ‘Frog stack,’ she said in a matter of fact voice, because she had read about it, and she liked to be a know it all. But f-o-u-r frogs.

‘What are they doing?’ Dick said.

Margaret didn’t like to even think what they were doing, but she expected it was naughty. It was spring. She told Dick what she thought.

Dick looked at Polly and Rosie. ‘Not in front of the little ones,’ he said, his mouth looking as though he had sucked a lemon. ‘This is not our business, it really truly is not.’ Best just leave these four to ‘it’.’

So Margaret and Dick did as ‘it’ resonated for quite some distance. They left them to ‘it’ too, on their return, and as they stepped over them, the frogs sort of shivered again. (sorry if this is too explicit)

‘Well, it is spring,’ Margaret said to Dick.

‘Stop talking,’ said Dick, and hurried on back to Margaret and Dick’s garden, and Margaret did not make the coffee for a little while, for Dick would need a few moments… Yes, you know don’t you … with the flagpole.