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John Goodman proves a horror movie lives on the power of its monster

“I’m going to keep you alive.”    
    These words chill Michelle (Mary Elizabeth Winstead: Mercy Street) when she wakes up chained to the wall of an underground bunker. Her savior is Howard (John Goodman: Love the Coopers), an ex-Navy man who tells his captive that he saved her as a disaster ended most life on Earth.
    Michelle is skeptical, as one might be on awakening in underwear, injured and chained. But Howard swears his intentions are altruistic while the air outside is toxic. Eventually, he releases her from the chains.
    She meets Emmett (John Gallagher Jr.: The Newsroom), who fought to get inside this bunker. He offers Michelle vague reassurances of a light in the sky and bad things happening. She begins to believe.
    The problem is, the bunker isn’t safe either. Though it’s well stocked and comfortable enough, Howard is a malevolent benefactor. He watches Michelle constantly, creeps up behind her and flies into a violent rage when she doesn’t behave the way he wants.
    Should she brave the world? Or find a way to live with Howard?
    A claustrophobic thriller about three people hoping to survive each other’s company, 10 Cloverfield Lane is a sequel in name only to the frenetic monster movie Cloverfield. This restrained, tense thriller focuses most of its horror inward, creating dark and disturbing feelings without special effects.
    Goodman excels. His Howard ranks with the most deeply unsettling characters ever created on the silver screen. Goodman obliterates his loveable-dad stereotype with Howard, a monster who is so frightening because he’s so believable. Everything about him is eerie, from his mood swings to his calm, nonsensical monologues. Goodman never pushes the character too far, and as a result Howard becomes more menacing. His every move is insidious, whether he’s pounding a fist into the wall or dancing to music on an ancient jukebox.
    As Michelle, Winstead lets her expressive face to do most of the work. She makes it clear that Howard makes her skin crawl. But Michelle is not a victim; she is a survivor, and Winstead gives a determined set to her jaw that tells us she will fight to make it.
    Making his impressive debut, director Dan Trachtenberg wisely allows the actors to do most of the heavy lifting, keeping camera work minimal. He shoots most scenes in uncomfortable close-ups, emphasizing the forced proximity of the bunker. Though it’s a great debut, the film flags at the end, which feels tacked on from a different script. Still, it’s a small flaw.
    A tight thriller with brilliant performances, this movie will give you goose bumps for years to come.

Great Horror • PG-13 • 103 mins.

Branch out this weekend to many Marylands

For each of us, Maryland is a different place: perhaps a state of mind, perhaps a state of being, perhaps a blood line running through your veins.
    Like many Marylanders and distant cousins spread throughout the land, your link may take you all the way back to 1634, when Lord Baltimore’s sea-tossed ships The Ark and The Dove bumped into now-St. Clement’s Island and decided the Potomac River was the place for them.
    Bay Weekly contributing writer Mick Blackistone is one of those so linked. So are my sons, through their paternal grandmother Mary Mattingly.
    Another link: You can celebrate St. Patrick’s Day and Maryland Day at the same time and for much the same reason: possession of land. Englishman Cecil Calvert, the mind behind our colony, was made baron of the territory of Baltimore, in north central Ireland, in the 1620s, when such grants were in the English king’s power. His colonial ambitions were further tried in Newfoundland, which proved too cold, and finally in Maryland.
    In Ireland, Baltimore is a rocky village on the coast of County Cork.
    So you can toast Maryland Day with a glass of Irish whiskey. Or beer. But better not make it wine, lest you suffer the fate of a thirsty group of Baltimore colonists. Father Andrew White, who chronicled the voyage, reports the sad consequence of celebrating Christmas 1633 at sea with wine: in order that that day might be better kept, wine was given out; and those who drank of it too freely, were seized the next day with a fever; and of these, not long afterwards, about twelve died ...
    Modern Marylanders preserve the legacy they’ve inherited in many ways.
    For the Ann Arundel Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution, including Bay weekly correspondent Diana Dinsick, the touchstone of Maryland history is the Rising Sun Inn, a pre-Revolutionary farmhouse and later tavern tracing its lineage to Virginia Puritans, an outlying branch of the believers who caused so much trouble in England for Charles I, whose history is entwined with Maryland’s.
    For Annapolis, the touchstone is preserving the homes and stories of Revolutionary era personages great and small.
    For Captain Avery Museum’s dedicated volunteers, the touchstone is inviting new generations to share the opportunities of a waterfront home — first of a sea captain, then a Jewish community summer home.
    For the Galesville Historical Society, it’s preserving the traditions of two communities in one, black and white. For the Deale Historical Society, it’s sharing memories of generations leading to ours.
    There are many Marylands beyond these, probably many for each of us, and often divergent.
    New Jersey transplant Joanna Evens can’t get over our roads, she writes of her new home in Southern Maryland:
    “My suspicion is that many numbers of people here are hunters. I can tell by the number of pick­up trucks that crawl up my car trunk as I meander along Rt. 4. Meandering is something I brought with me from New Jersey. Why rush to the next stoplight? The pickups don’t like meandering. …
    “I realize the contorting roads are part of the terrain and not unlike those used when slow-moving wagons transported tobacco. I don’t like driving them — yet — but I like seeing the old barns that suddenly surprise me as I take a sharp turn. The barns are colorful, some colorless, but grace the empty fields much like a stately lighthouse on an empty beach. They seem to be guarding something, perhaps the past.”
    Maryland Day weekend, this weekend, is a good time to visit other Marylands beyond our own, extend our acquaintance with generations past and ponder what we’re handing down to the future.

Sandra Olivetti Martin
Editor and publisher; editor@bayweekly.com

Hardy ornamental plants will survive, so shape them as you want them

Be ruthless. It’s time to chop ornamental grasses and butterfly bushes. Cut them down to the ground.
    Also remove the old flower stems and old foliage of sedum to make room for new growth.
    In addition, it’s time for serious pruning of lilacs that are over-grown or infested with stems borers. Trim azaleas, rhododendrons, cherry laurels and hollies that make it impossible to look out of the bedroom or living room windows. Some of the branches that you cut can be brought in and forced to flower.
    Late winter and early spring are the best times for hard pruning. The roots of all ornamentals growing in your landscape are packed with sugars, carbohydrates and nutrients just waiting to move upward into the stems to produce new branches and leaves. Hardy ornamental plants survive and flourish no matter how drastically you prune them. So you don’t need to fear killing the plant if you remove too much.
    Cut those clumps of ornamental grasses as close to the ground as possible. To eliminate the need to carry away the old dry stems, cut them into pieces six inches or smaller and allow them to become mulch. While you are at it, cut those stems of butterfly bushes as close to the ground as possible. I use a chainsaw to prune my butterfly close to the ground, forcing new branches to emerge from the roots. If the forsythia and weigela shrubs are over-grown or not flowering well, cut those branches close to the ground as well. This is how you force the new branches to originate from the roots and not from branch stubs.
    Overgrown azaleas, rhododendrons, hollies, yews and cherry laurels should have their branches pruned to 12 to 18 inches lower than the desired height. You will avoid having to prune them again in a few years, and regrowth will have a more desirable appearance.
    You don’t have to be a certified professional horticulturist to know how to prune hardy ornamental plants. These plants are survivors and dormant vegetative buds up and down the branches are waiting to burst into active growth. That plant will recover and appear normal in a relatively short time. Trust me.


Plow Pan Is Your Problem

Q    We have been growing perennials, a few annuals and various vegetables and herbs on the same large garden plot for about 13 years. I’ve noticed that the plants aren’t as healthy as they once were, despite the fact that we’ve added soil and fertilizer over the years. What do you recommend to improve the soil for the garden overall and in particular where the perennials are located?
      –Amanda Gibson, Lothian

A    If you have been gardening in the same area for 13 years, and have been tilling or plowing each year, most likely you have developed a plow pan about six inches below the surface of the soil, and it is now affecting drainage and root penetration. The only solution is double digging or sub-soiling. To test my theory, sharpen a broom handle (or use a piece of half-inch pipe) and see how deep you can push it into the ground. Test several areas in your garden. If you can’t penetrate deeper than six inches you have plow pan and need to dig below. If you have a tractor, I have a sub-soiler you can borrow.

Ask The Bay Gardener your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

Paddlers approach fish and wildlife closely and unobtrusively

Lifting the slender red hull with one hand, I put the single-person kayak in the back of my pickup truck, securing it with a bungee cord and tucking in the double-bladed oar. Within an hour, I was floating over the placid waters of my favorite lake, casting my fly rod to any number of bluegills, pickerel, bass and perch.
    Later that week, I would launch the same craft along a major Chesapeake tributary to pursue white perch and schoolie rockfish with a light spin outfit.
    One of the best things about living in Maryland is our public recreational areas. I’m not talking about places such as Quiet Waters Park, Truxton or even Sandy Point State Park, though they are all great areas to enjoy the outdoors. The public space I’m talking about is the Bay itself and its almost countless tributaries, as well as Maryland’s many freshwater lakes and streams.
    Under federal law, people have access to all navigable waters subject to the ebb and flow of tide, and to all inland (non-tidal) waters capable of being boated. That means that if you’re floating in a watercraft almost anywhere in Maryland, you are in public space.
    That amounts to thousands of square miles of public recreational water including the 2,500 square miles of the Chesapeake, the 3,190 miles of shoreline (up to the high water mark), 40 rivers and innumerable lakes, streams and creeks.
    But you can’t enjoy this vast playground unless you have a boat, which may be easier than you think.
    The kayak boom has accelerated access to Maryland’s waters. This small craft was created by Inuit hunters of the far north some 4,000 years ago. It is a very stable craft due to its low center of gravity, light and easy to propel. In its modern incarnation, it is inexpensive and virtually maintenance-free.
    There are versions available for big water (sea kayaks), special designs for fishing, others for whitewater or saltwater surfing models. There are models designed for up to four people, though solo and two-person kayaks are the norm. All are seaworthy, so you can expect to be safe and secure on any day pleasant enough to make you want to be out on the water.
    Many versions weigh about 40 pounds and can be transported on the top of virtually any vehicle. I’ve even seen them towed on special trailers built to be pulled by a bicycle.
    The general touring or recreational versions will do for most applications. Coupled with a comfortable life jacket and a light two-bladed paddle, it is a marine package almost anyone can afford and enjoy.
    This very unobtrusive craft allows the paddler to approach closely to fish and wildlife, a particular advantage to an angler, wildlife photographer or nature lover.
    Canoes also afford wide access to our calmer waters. Canoes were developed some 10,000 years ago in Scandinavia and are generally considered the first form of watercraft. Of yore, they were crafted from a single log or by covering a light framework with tree bark.
    Commonly used by Native Americans and later by European immigrants, the canoe proved to be the primary source of transportation on the lakes, rivers and streams of North America until the late 1800s. Their light weight allowed them to be easily portaged between navigable waters, and they were built in sizes that could accommodate as many as eight passen­gers and their gear.
    Today’s canoes are constructed of molded synthetic materials that are both light and robust, requiring little maintenance. Many are as inexpensive as kayaks though not quite as stable because you sit higher in the hull. On the other hand, the canoe provides more room and storage. Many models can accommodate up to three or four people.
    No matter which of these light craft you choose, it will give you immediate access to one of the largest aquatic recreational areas in America, and all that access is free.

Asparagus is coming; winter weeds should be going

If you planted a cover crop of winter rye or wheat last fall, most likely the grass is six to 12 inches tall by now. Use your lawnmower to mow the grass as close to the ground as possible. Mowing saves you time in tilling the soil and helps to dry it, making it easier for the tiller.
    Ground left bare will by now be covered with a carpet of chickweed and henbit. Use horticultural vinegar to kill these winter weeds now before they drop their seeds. For maximum control, spray the vinegar on the foliage during a bright sunny day. Within 24 hours, you will see the weeds turn yellow-white with the leaf margins going brown. Friends report good results with a mixture of one gallon of distilled white vinegar with one-quarter cup of Palmolive dish detergent.
    If that bare ground is your asparagus bed, once the weeds have died down, rototill lightly, delaying if the soil is very wet. Before tilling, you can easily remove old stems because most have rotted at the base. Allow the tines of the tiller to penetrate the soil no more than three or four inches so as to not disturb the roots of the asparagus plants, which will soon be sending up shoots
    Readers have asked how to grow white asparagus, which are tenderer than green asparagus and have a milder flavor. White asparagus are grown in the dark. The old method was to hill the beds with soil or sawdust as the spears appeared above ground. The modern method is to build a lightweight frame of wood and cover it with black plastic or roofing paper. As soon as the spears appear, place the covered frames over the beds, lifting every two or three days for harvesting.
    If you have not had your soil tested in the past four years, now is the perfect time to submit a good representative soil sample for testing.
    I recommend sending the soil samples to A&L — now Waypoint Analytical — in Richmond (www.soilandplantlaboratory.com/services/soilsampling.aspx).
    If your soil is a sandy loam or loamy sand, have it tested for all trace elements especially for boron (B). However, if your soil is a loam, silt or clay loam, the general soil test will suffice.
    If you have been growing multiple crops each year, you most likely will need to apply limestone. If you want me to make the recommendations, don’t specify a crop (a savings of $3-$5) and include my email so I’ll get your results: dr.frgouin@gmail.com. Once I have them I’m happy to consult you.


Ask The Bay Gardener your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

 

Disney gives kids a talk on racism that parents also need to hear

In the metropolis of Zootopia, predators and prey have evolved past biological impulses. Lions and lambs live together in harmony and work for the future of all mammal kind.
    Everyone lives in peace, but not all things are equal. Predators tend to jobs that require forceful personalities, such as police officers or poli­ticians. Prey cluster in service fields. So Judy Hopps (voiced by Ginnifer Goodwin: Once Upon a Time) is laughed at for dreaming of joining the Zootopia police force.
    A tiny bunny with a quick mind and bold spirit, Judy isn’t an obvious choice for a force full of powerful wolves, elephants and lions. But she doesn’t let her size or status stop her. Judy finds ways to outwit and outmaneuver other classmates until she’s tops at the Police Academy.
    But prejudice endures, and her police captain (voiced by Idris Elba: Beasts of No Nation) refuses to give her cases. To prove herself by cracking a case that’s stumped fellow officers, she teams up with Nick (voiced by Jason Bateman: The Gift), a con artist fox.
    Can a fox and a bunny work together? Or are they doomed by biology?
    In the era of Black Lives Matter protests, Zootopia is a timely story about the insidious nature of bigotry. The film explores the hurt wrought by harmless assumptions and teaches kids the dangers of judging on preconceptions.
    The most interesting part of the message is that everyone is guilty of stereotyping. Good people aren’t good because they’re without prejudice but because they can acknowledge poor behavior, apologize to those they’ve hurt and change. It’s a message that should help parents start a very tricky talk about discrimination.
    Zootopia also offers small viewers a great female role model. Judy is tiny and weak, and she fails a lot. But she doesn’t stop trying to achieve her dream. A fiercely independent bunny with a great work ethic, Judy remains kind and caring to all. It is wonderful for children to see that she can be both kind and tough without compromising who she is or what she believes.
    Bateman’s Nick is the sly foil to Goodwin’s perky bunny. Because he’s a fox, he’s assumed to be a liar and a thief. And that’s what he’s become, in a direct lesson on the consequences of stereotyping.
    Even little ones who are too small to understand Zootopia’s range of social commentary will enjoy the animal puns, silly humor and gorgeous animation. Zootopia doesn’t carry the same emotional impact as a Pixar film, but it more than makes up with meticulous animation, family-friendly humor and its timely, believable message. 
    If you’re looking for a way to open a conversation with your kids about racism and the harm it causes, Zootopia will help you get the ball rolling.

Great Animation • PG • 108 mins.

You think you’ve got everything you need until you find out you don’t

It was a nearly perfect morning. We had arrived to find our favorite yellow perch spot empty of angler competition, the broad stream running full and clear and a warm sun poking up over the tops of the thick trees lining the far shore.
    With medium-sized bull minnows hooked on shad darts under weighted bobbers, my buddy Frank and I flipped our rigs out into the stream, above a small eddy churning about 30 feet from the shoreline. Both our bobbers disappeared as soon as they drifted close to the edge of the twisting water.
    Setting our hooks, then gently fighting and easing two fat neds to the shoreline, we grinned so wide they almost hurt our faces.
    “Man these are definitely keepers,” I said.
    “Definitely,” Frank concurred, “but we had better check.”
    Agreeing, I hunted in my tackle bag for a measuring tape. It was not to be found.
    “I must have left it at home,” I said.
    Frank was not having any luck either. “I know I had one last year,” he said.
    “Dang. I’m not so positive that my fish is legal,” I had to admit.
    “I’m not sure enough to risk a $200 fine,” Frank agreed.
    After a final desperate search and still coming up empty, I proposed an option.
    “I think a dollar bill is close to six inches. Let’s cut a branch the size of one and a half bills to measure our fish. We should probably add a little length just to be sure, because I’m not positive that a bill is just under or just over six.”
    Both our neds proved legal by this method, and we used the small stick until we limited out.
    We would later discover that a dollar bill is exactly 61⁄8 inches. So we had probably released, unknowingly, a dozen legal keepers.
    We also discovered we had overlooked bringing a fish stringer, pickerel lures, a better quantity and selection of shad darts, heavier sinkers and a minnow net for dipping bait.

Making Your List
    The first trips of the year can be like that. You think you’ve got everything you need until you find out you don’t.
    With the benefit of hindsight, Frank and I made a checklist:
    A measuring tape or ruler.
    A five-gallon plastic utility bucket, a great catchall for carrying the various items of your tackle to the fishing site as well as in carrying back any fish you might harvest.
    Two fishing rods per person so that an accident like a broken rod or a reel that has frozen up over the long winter won’t derail your after an hour on the road and a mile hike to the secret spot. It is also handy to have one rod rigged for bobber fishing and the other for bottom fishing.
    A regulation book in case you catch a species you hadn’t planned on and can’t remember the minimum legal size or legal season for possession.
    Extra shad darts of varying weights, sizes and colors, plus small spoons and crank baits, extra hooks of the proper size and hi-lo rigs to set up for bottom fishing. Also bring sinkers and bobbers in enough quantity that you can lose a few in the multitude of snags and low treetops in springtime angling waters.
    A minnow bucket so that you don’t have to purchase yet another when stopping at the bait store; plus a small dip net to allow your hands to stay warm in the chill of spring.
    A line clipper;
    A good knife;
    A small towel or two to keep your hands dry and warm and to wipe off fish or bait slime.
    A hemostat or pliers to aid in divesting your fish — especially pickerel — from the hooks.
    A camera to prevent your being called a liar.
    Boots in the event of a flooded or muddy shoreline.
    A light waterproof jacket or poncho for that day when a warm, sunny sky turns into an dark dowpour.
    A first aid kit, including bandaids, medical tape and disinfectant for fin and hook punctures, plus a small wire cutters should a hook bury in past the barb.
    Last but not least, a fishing license.

For a week’s worth of words, open Bay Weekly

All the puzzles on Bay Weekly’s expanded Activities Page have me thinking synonymously.
    Amalgamation … composite … everything but the kitchen sink … fusion … gallimaufry … grab bag … hash … hodgepodge … marriage … medley … mélange … miscellany … mishmash … Noah’s ark … odds and ends … olio … omnium-gatherum … pasticcio … pastiche … potpourri … salad … salmagundi … scramble … stew … and my favorite, dog’s breakfast, a ­Canadian idiom I immediately understand. Like the lunch salad my husband generously made for me, this Bay Weekly is full of little bits of good things.
    Come to think of it, newspaper belongs on that list.
    (I’d make that memo to Mr. Peter Mark Roget (1779-1869), were he still around to read it, or his Fifth Edition successor, Mr. Robert L. Chapman, had he not, alas, left this world back in 2002.)
    For what is a newspaper but a periodic anthology of all the stuff that’s come to its editor’s hand by way of assignment, diligence and timeliness?
    I go gallimaufrying as I read my morning newspapers (The Washington Post and The Capital plus a section left over from the plentitude of Sunday’s New York Times). Gallimaufrying, in case you didn’t know (I didn’t) is a “conflation” of French words meaning to amuse oneself and to gorge. And what I seek is to breakfast on the unexpected, from five appreciations of Nancy Regan to stories of love and marriage to who may be who on the Supreme Court to defiances of death to cartoons to advice on the complexities of daily life.
    At Bay Weekly, we’ve gorged ourselves on gallimaufrying in making this paper, so you can expect to go gallimaufryin, too.
    Your reading this week will inform, enlighten and entertain.
    Start with edification. The Chesapeake Waterkeepers, in a new monthly feature by Mitchelle Stephenson, will keep us up to date on front-line actors and action in restoring the Bay, river by river.
    Then learn how researchers and citizen scientists at Smithsonian Environmental Research Center are looking long-term into a future, planting a forest of 20,000 trees to learn lessons in diversity.
    That’s a forest you can visit any day, but what about those saplings you’re passing on every day’s drive? There’s another part of Bay Restoration, planted by the State Highway Administration to improve the health of the Chesapeake watershed by capturing pollution-producing nitrogen and phosphorus in their root systems.
    For news you can use, read Kathy Knotts’ stories on tax advisors ready to help you meet your date with Uncle Sam and Mr. Franchot.
    For what’s happening in the animal world, you’ll read how you can help Chesapeake conservancy set up a new nestcam to spy on a blue heron rookery.
    Speaking of diversity, that, Moviegoer Diana Beechener writes, is the lesson behind the very entertaining Zootopia.
    You’ll find more entertainment in Get Your Skates On, wherein first-time contributing writer Karen Holmes takes us visiting area hockey bars, where fans watch their beloved Washington Capitals score.
    You’ll find entertainment every day of the week in 8 Days a Week, your go-to source for fun and festivities.
    Once your head is full, you’ll be ready for word puzzles four ways: Crossword, CryptoQuip, Kriss Kross and Anagram. Full of words? Stimulate other parts of your brain and satisfy other appetites in this week’s Sudoko and Coloring Corner.
    All that for free 52 weeks a year in Bay Weekly. All we ask is that you support our advertisers.

Sandra Olivetti Martin
Editor and publisher; editor@bayweekly.com

Blue heron next in line for Internet stardom

The race is on for the debut of the latest Internet stars in the Chesapeake Conservancy’s lineup. The urgency? Getting the cameras in place before the stars arrive.
    The intended reality stars are great blue herons nesting in a rookery on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
    “We must move fast, as the heron customarily return to their nests in the next two weeks,” says Jody Couser, director of communications. “We have to mount the camera quickly so as not to disrupt the rookery.”
    So great is the rush that the Annapolis-based organization is seeking crowdfunding.
    The Chesapeake Conservancy did not plan to launch a third webcam, so funds are not in this year’s budget. Then the property owner invited the Conservancy to set up its third live-streaming webcam at the rookery where, for the last 10 springs, about a dozen great blue herons have nested in a small loblolly pine grove. Once the large blue eggs hatch, the population grows to roughly 50 herons.
    Webcams help the Conservancy connect people to the Chesapeake and the species that call it home. 


    “We get to see straight into their nests. We can share the wonder of these majestic birds live on your screen 24 hours a day,” Couser says
    Infrared camera technology enables viewing even after dark.
    Intimacy breeds stewardship.
    “We know that once you care deeply about the Bay and you have access to the Bay, you will help take care of it,” Couser says.
    The two active web cameras feature an osprey duo and a pair of peregrine falcons. Boh and Barb, the falcons, nest outside the 33rd floor of the Transamerica Building in Baltimore. The osprey, Audrey and Tom, should return to their seasonal nest near Kent Island around St. Patrick’s Day.
    “These cameras are wildly popular,” Couser says. “We get more than one million views each year for each webcam.”
    Those viewers come from all over the world and more than 100 countries.
    The Conservancy has secured a donation from a tree service based in Rehobeth, Del., to mount the cam in the 80-foot-tall pine. Discounted equipment and installation come from Skyline Technology Solutions, Inc., the company that helped launch the other webcams.
    At press time, $4,000 had been raised toward the $10,000 goal.
    Donate at www.gofundme.com/6cru5qxg.

One man soars toward his dream in this winning underdog tale

Eddie Edwards (Taron Egerton: Legend) isn’t a winner. With braces on his legs and thick glasses covering most of his face, Eddie doesn’t look the Olympian. Yet that’s his dream, and when the braces come off, training begins.
    But for what? He starts chucking javelins, attempting high jumps and lifting weights. Eddie breaks plenty of pairs of glasses — but no records — as he fumbles toward Olympic glory.
    Eddie’s mother is endlessly supportive. His father wishes Eddie would stop with this nonsense and become something respectable, like a plasterer. Eddie perseveres, deciding to go for gold as an Olympic ski jumper.
    Three problems get in the way: First, Eddie has never ski jumped. Second, no ski jumper has represented England in the Olympics for decades. Third, ski jumping is one of the most dangerous winter Olympic sports; an inch off on a landing can shatter a jumper’s legs or spine.
    His first few runs are disastrous. He’s the laughing stock of the slopes. Practiced at ignoring ridicule, he continues his dangerous pursuit. Eventually he catches the eye of ski jumping burnout Bronson Peary (Hugh Jackman: Pan). Eddie and the former Olympian team up for an unconventional story of Olympic glory.
    A multitude of sports movie clichés should make Eddie the Eagle unwatchable. Yet Jackman and Egerton’s winning chemistry make the film charming. Director Dexter Fletcher (Sunshine on Leith) lets his actors do most of the work. His big burst of originality is the montage of young Eddie seeking his sport.
    Taron Egerton brings a marvelous oddity to the role of Eddie. He is a twitchy, nerdy little man, but his many quirks belie his steely nerve. You can’t help rooting for him and might well break into applause during his death-defying jumps.
    Jackman gives one of his best performances in years. Instead of shouting and gesticulating, he pulls back, making Bronson’s a sardonic figure instead of a clown.
    A sweet story of one man’s journey to Olympic greatness, the film will leave you cheering.

Good Sports Comedy • PG-13 • 106 mins.