Of course, the fun thing about this movie, and the reason I picked it for my next Joel Fry film, is because it costars Rory Kinnear. It’s neat to see them working together again in a project that has such a different tone, setting, characters, etc. While I’d rate the film as “pretty good,” it’s another winner when it comes to Fry’s performance!
Hugh, a London lawyer, is sent up north to Burnley with an unusual case: a local man wants to open a new bank. This is an enormous deal and almost certainly impossible—as multiple characters point out, the Financial Regulation Board (FRB) hasn’t approved an application for a new bank in 150 years. But Dave is determined. On the heels of the 2008 recession, he thinks the big banks have had their chance, and it’s time for a little guy who actually wants to use his bank to help the community. Though he’s still incredibly doubtful about their odds, Hugh sets out to help Dave in any way he can.
Billed as “based on a true(ish) story,” this is a feel-good underdog story that’s a bit flimsy but entertaining. The script is oversauced at times, it’s a little too schmaltzy in moments, and there are some overly convenient plot points that strain believability. That said, I enjoyed it. I like seeing the various ways Dave and Hugh try to take on the gatekeepers at the FRB: they come at it with a combination of out-of-the-box thinking and careful attention to detail, which is a good summary of their individual approaches. There’s also a gentle romantic comedy B plot that’s entirely invented for the film, and while you can guess where that’s heading also immediately, it’s still sweet to watch.
Rory Kinnear plays Dave, a sort of Northern folk hero: down-to-earth, a blast at karaoke night, and constantly looking for ways to help people. For years, Dave has been giving personal loans to people in Burnley for all sorts of things, and now he’s hoping that, with an official bank, he’ll be able to help them invest as well. He’s outspoken about his plans to give any profits to charity, and he’s fully aware of how slim his chances are. Early on, he tells Hugh that, although he obviously wants the bank to be approved, he’s prepared to accept the FRB being forced to justify their denial—“I want them to say that the same people who just lost 500 billion quid are the only people entitled to look after our money,” he explains. Obviously, Dave couldn’t be any more different than the Badminton Twins, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen Kinnear in this sort of role before. He does well with it, playing a natural salesman with a big ego but a good heart.
On the opposite side of the coin, we have Hugh Bonneville as Sir Charles, a former FRB head who stands in opposition to Dave. Sir Charles is for institutions, old money, and not letting some upstart come in to rock the boat. He explains to one of his colleagues why Dave’s bank proposal is such a threat to their financial ecosystem, saying, “It’s one thing, rich foreign corporations trying to horn in on our business. We know how to deal with those buggers. But once ordinary people start thinking they can get in on the action, the floodgates will open.” He and the other monied banking characters are snobbish and entitled, almost cartoonishly antagonistic in the lengths they go to stop Dave, but I like how Bonneville plays Sir Charles with this veneer of sophisticated politeness. The film also features Phoebe Dynevor, who I watched recently as Daphne in Bridgerton. She plays Alexandria, Dave’s niece and a doctor who’s trying to set up a free walk-in clinic in Burnley—hers is one of many projects Dave wants to be able to finance. An early run-in with Hugh makes her think she’s got him all summed up, but as they work together to help Dave, she starts to realize there’s more to him than she expected.
The movie is called Bank of Dave, and Rory Kinnear is centered in the forefront of the poster. But just like The Great Gatsby is actually Nick Carraway’s story and The Devil Wears Prada is actually Andy Sachs’s, this is really a story about Hugh. He’s our viewpoint character, the big-city fish out of water in Burnley, and Dave is the larger-than-life figure who gives him a whole new perspective. Dave presents this concrete goal that the characters are working together to try and achieve, while Hugh is the one who grows and changes. And that’s where Joel Fry comes in—as Hugh, he gets top billing in the opening credits, which is neat to see!
Oh, Hugh. I love him. He’s a good lawyer, thoughtful and thorough, and unlike his boss, he doesn’t jump at the chance to accept Dave’s money for what he thinks is a hopeless case. Hugh doesn’t flatter Dave about his chances, and even as he gets on board with helping, he stays levelheaded about the situation on the ground. There’s a scene where Dave needs to appear in court, and Hugh appeals to his boss to get them a barrister, pointing out that, as a solicitor, “I don’t stand up in court and shout at people and stuff.” When his boss gives him the old, “Come on, you know you want to!”, he replies, “Yeah, but I don’t think this is the best time to indulge my fantasies.” And where his professional life is concerned, that’s kind of Hugh all over. He’s focused on doing things correctly, he’s realistic, and he wants to serve his client as well as he possibly can, despite his own doubts about the whole thing.
Also, Hugh may be the least comfortable man alive, and it’s just unspeakably endearing! He’s soft-spoken, stammering as he tries to get a word in edgewise with the gregarious Dave. When he’s around people who are more outgoing than him, he often has this slightly confused/startled expression as he warily tries to keep up. This is a good place to talk about, what else?, Fry’s wonderfully anxious physicality in the role. When he’s unsure or embarrassed, Hugh has a habit of holding his partially-closed hand up to his face, almost like he’s trying to hide behind it. During his first meeting with Dave, he comes into the office awkwardly clutching his bag and coat to his chest. When his very drunk ex-girlfriend tries to make a pass at him, he leans all the way back from her clumsy embrace, nervously insisting, “No, y-you’re vulnerable, I’m vulnerable. You know, this—this won’t solve anything.”
I especially love that, while we do see moments where Hugh is more relaxed and calm, especially in the second half of the film as he gets to know people better, his character growth doesn’t involve morphing into a chill, socially-comfortable guy. There’s a terrific scene where Dave cajoles him into doing karaoke at the local, a prospect that fills Hugh with utter dread. The whole time he’s walking up to the microphone, he repeats, “I-I honestly don’t want to do this.” He sings with his arms folded protectively around him. In most movies, we’d see Hugh loosening up over the course of the song, learning to embrace spontaneity and have fun, and he’d come away from it better for the experience. But although everyone in the pub is cheerfully encouraging him and singing along, this karaoke performance doesn’t “fix” him. He kind of nervously smiles or laughs at different points, but for the most part, his arms stay folded, and his performance is peppered with side comments: asking someone in the crowd, “Do you wanna swap?”, entreating people to join in with a, “Please help!”, and crying, “Oh, come on!” when he realizes it’s not quite over yet. Likewise, when Hugh is in court, he’s still soft-spoken, and even at his most self-assured, he still stammers a little. It’s hard to explain why, but I really, really like that.
Also, this film taught me that Joel Fry plays smitten very well. In the romantic side plot, he’s just utterly soft—awkward and fumbling, of course, and I love how gently he portrays that Hugh is down bad and doesn’t quite know what to do about that. I knew from Requiem that he can do quiet pining, Cruella has some shippy undertones that stay ambiguous, and he plays a nervous lovesick mess in 96 Ways to Say I Love You. But Bank of Dave gives us, “Oh, this man is falling in love right in front of me,” which is just so soft and sweet to watch.
Accent
A bit posher than Fry’s own accent, I’d say, though I definitely wouldn’t go all the way to calling it RP.
Recommend?
In General – I might. It’s a little basic, but it’s sweet and uplifting, and the performances are good.
Joel Fry – 100% yes. I adore Hugh, and so sooooo much of that is because of the energy Fry brings to the role.
Warnings
Language, drinking, and thematic elements.
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