Caught virtually red-handed, Rev. Jud Duplenticy (Josh O’Connor) is suspected of murdering his superior Jefferson Wicks (Josh Brolin). The pair were known to the public as enemies, making Jud’s intentions more overt. Praying for help, he is met by detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig), and together the duo make a case to prove his innocence. Along the way, Blanc is festooned with unlikely characters such as Martha (Glenn Close) and Lee Ross (Andrew Scott), a man who fancies himself to be a writer.
Craig reprises the role of Blanc for the first time since Glass Onion (Rian Johnson, 2022), marking an addendum to the rule of diminishing returns. Previously, his Southern drawl seemed cute, but now it is virtually indistinguishable. He mumbles, scoffs and tuts with scantly any semblance of cohesion. When this movie streams on Netflix, english subtitles won’t be recommended; they will be required. In the great tradition of Hercule Poirot and Sherlock Holmes, a re-casting for the next film won’t be a bad idea. Either that, or Craig has to work on the accent for the sake of the audience.
O’Connor is stronger, a priest struck between serving God and saving his own vanity. If anyone is the lead, it is he; Craig doesn’t appear for the first 30 minutes. As ensembles go, this is a poor one. Close seems to mutter the words, counting down the minutes until she can leave the film set. Daryl McCormack is wooden in the part of Cy, a wannabe politician equal parts duplicitous and debonair. Jeffrey Wright is comical in the role of wrathful bishop, although he is illserved by a script that will not allow him to veer into layers of anger and rage.
Wake Up Dead Man is rife for mockery, a chance to raise a fist at the Catholic Church. Oddly, director Rian Johnson flirts with the idea, before losing the nerve and returning to more family-friendly fodder. What is delivered is surface-level and facile; nobody goes deep enough into their character arcs. Out of the array onscreen, only O’Connor seems comfortable showcasing a level of pathos and pain.
Then there’s the story, a 90-minute television special blown up to two-and-a-half hours in total. Wake Up Dead Man doesn’t pack enough narration to merit such a runtime, so the rest is padded out with sight gags, racial slurs and an odd throwback aimed at “Scooby-dooby doo!”. Glass Onion bore a similar hallmark to Wes Anderson in aesthete and design; irritatingly, this feature goes for the witticisms and puns a la Wes Anderson, 2025). Johnson’s great failing is his lack of originality, trying to ape Agatha Christie and Anderson in a quixotic cocktail. That the dialogue comes so often betrays his confidence in the mystery novels that inspired him, which were mechanisms in silence and carefully thought out plot points.
O’Connor has proven himself to be a very fine actor in recent years, and mostly carries the picture. Without him, the movie would be completely unwatchable, baffling considering the a-listers who dot the work. Although his is the most heartfelt of the character studies, Rev. Jud Duplenticy is also very funny at times; that nimble, balletic body pounding nervously across the room at the sight of conflict. Eventually, he too runs out of story, returning to the cackles and agitated eye movements which had served him during the first half of the movie. The detective comedy is ripe for improvement. Unfortunately, Wake Up Dead Man does little to push the genre forward. Everything in the work is stilted and passé, although it might be better enjoyed during the Christmas holidays as a lightweight Netflix treat.
Wake Up Dead Man: a Knives Out Mystery is in cinemas on Wednesday, November 26th.
