Fackham Hall Review: The Satire That Forgot to Be Funny

Parody is clearly not dead — The Naked Gun earlier this year proved there is still an audience for big, dumb, precision-crafted silliness. Fackham Hall, though, is the reminder that having funny people in the building does not automatically equal a funny movie.

So, what is Fackham Hall?

It is a 97-minute period spoof designed to play in the Downton Abbey sandbox, centered on the wildly wealthy, terminally snooty Davenport clan. Eric Noone (Ben Radcliffe) is a smooth, good-natured pickpocket who accidentally lands a porter job at their grand country estate, Fackham Hall. While he is trying to keep his head down, he falls for the youngest daughter, Rose (Thomasin McKenzie). Meanwhile, Rose's parents are still dealing with the social fallout from a wrecked wedding between Rose's sister Poppy (Emma Laird) and her cousin Archibald (Tom Felton). Then a body drops, Eric gets framed, and the whole house of cards wobbles.

And yes, the title gag is exactly what you think it is. I will admit it took me longer than it should have to clock it.

Who made it, and who is in it?

Directed by Jim O'Hanlon. The script is credited to Jimmy Carr and Patrick Carr alongside the Dawson Brothers braintrust — brothers Andrew and Steve — and their longtime collaborator Tim Inman. On paper, that is a lot of comic firepower.

• Ben Radcliffe as Eric Noone, the pickpocket-turned-porter
• Thomasin McKenzie as Rose Davenport
• Emma Laird as Poppy Davenport
• Tom Felton as Archibald Davenport
• Damian Lewis as Lord Davenport
• Katherine Waterston co-stars

Does the comedy land?

Short answer: not really. The movie hurls every classic spoof device at the wall — riffs you will recognize from Airplane!, The Naked Gun, Blazing Saddles, even a little Holy Grail energy — but the delivery is off. The timing is wobbly, the reactions are wrong, and punchlines often feel like they were dropped in from another take. Damian Lewis is the one person who seems perfectly tuned to the material; he knows exactly how broad to go and when to wink. Most of the rest of the cast, all talented in their own lanes, feels miscast for this very specific style of parody. That mismatch hurts.

Which brings me to the surprising part: with the entire British comedy bench available, not a single marquee comic makes the lineup. No David Mitchell, Bob Mortimer, Richard Ayoade, Sally Phillips — nobody. It is not that Thomasin McKenzie or Katherine Waterston are bad (they are both excellent actors); they are just the wrong tools for this particular job.

What about the story?

Even if the jokes were bombing, a sharp plot could have steadied the ship. Instead, the murder that the marketing leans on does not arrive until late, which rushes the back half. A couple of third-act twists pop up out of nowhere — one will feel obvious looking back, but not in a satisfying way. Scenes do not build on each other so much as they happen next to each other. The classic parodies were chaotic, but they still moved with clear cause-and-effect. Here, the connective tissue is thin.

Any laughs at all?

A few. There is a pretty good Bechdel test gag. A spoofed-up J.R.R. Tolkien gets a couple of the movie's only memorable zingers. And again, Damian Lewis wrings every drop he can from his material. But those bright spots are rare.

The bottom line

Fackham Hall feels like a patchwork of better parodies, stitched together without the confidence or snap that makes this genre sing. If you are curious, manage expectations accordingly. Otherwise, you are safe waiting.

Fackham Hall opens in theaters Friday, December 5.