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Duping some angry Russians, the British Mi5, and an international terrorist, extroverted art dealer and part time swindler Charlie Mortdecai is forced to plunge himself into a race to regain a stolen painting rumored to hold the code to a lost bank account full of Nazi gold by his only tools: good looks and special charm.
He's a character of a bygone age of literature and film plopped down into this time and place but with no realization that anything is different. All in all, you could certainly do a lot worse for a January release.
Mortdecai isn't particularly funny, but it's also not the Pistachio Disguisey 2015 train wreck the Internet has spent the last few months anticipating. It's brainless, but it's painless.
There's nothing worse than a film that's laughing at itself while the auditorium is silent, and while Mortdecai inspires a few chuckles, it never fully delivers.
I have seen worse films, but I'm not sure I've seen a worse performance. And that's really saying something.
December 04, 2015
Toronto Sun
The humour is puerile and idiotic, but you may laugh out loud in spite of yourself -- especially if you're familiar with the Carry On movies or the original Pink Panther.
With art-heist caper Mortdecai, Johnny Depp tries his darnedest to start a kooky Austin Powers-like franchise with a side of bumbling Insp. Clouseau. But dash it all if it isn't a crashing bore, old bean.