Heat Wave: When Your Groceries Get Political

If you have a soft spot for old, slightly dusty British cinema that doesn't quite know what it wants to be, you might actually get a kick out of Heat Wave. It is not for everyone, certainly not for anyone who needs their revolutions to make sense or their pacing to be snappy. But if you like seeing a perfectly ordinary man thrown into a chaotic mess he has zero business being in, well, pull up a chair.

The whole premise is just... bizarre. You have this English greengrocer, a guy who probably spends his mornings debating the price of onions, suddenly navigating the high-stakes world of South American rebellion. It feels like someone took a script for a serious political thriller, dropped it in a blender with a lighthearted comedy, and hit 'pulse' just a few too many times.

There is this moment about halfway through where our hero is trying to look inconspicuous, and he’s just so clearly uncomfortable. It’s like the actor, Edmund Willard, is thinking, 'How did I end up here?' It’s not a polished performance, but it is deeply relatable. You can almost see the gears turning in his head as he tries to remember if he locked his shop door back in London. 🧅

Some of the extras in the background of the revolutionary scenes look like they’d rather be anywhere else. I spent a solid five minutes just watching a guy in the back left of the frame trying to figure out where to put his hands. It’s those little, messy details that make this feel more like a real document of a weird time in filmmaking than a finished, coherent product.

It’s not quite as grim as The Ghoul, thankfully. It lacks that heavy, gothic weight and instead opts for this sun-bleached, frantic energy that barely holds together. I wouldn't call it a masterpiece, but it’s certainly not boring.

The movie really drags its feet during the third act, though. The dialogue gets a bit repetitive, and there's a scene involving a radio report that goes on for what feels like an eternity. I checked my watch twice. ⌚

Still, you keep watching. Maybe it’s just to see if the greengrocer ever gets home. It’s got a strange charm, like an old sweater you find in the back of a closet. A bit itchy, maybe a bit moth-eaten, but you keep it because it’s got personality.