Paul Evans Joe takes on an unusual job, looking after an unused house for wealthy millionaire Elliot Graham,who curiously lives across the road. Without any residents Joe resides in his palace, which boasts masses to explore. Elliot could be described as the idol rich, Joe is from a humble background. As time goes on Joe hosts MP Richard Reece, and his mistress Charlotte.I'll admit to being a Poliakoff addict, his writing and artistry for telling a story is spellbinding. Every piece of work he's done has captivated me, it's a toss of a coin between Joe's Palace and Perfect Strangers which I'd give top billing.There's a wealth of talent, Kelly Reilly, Michael Gambon and Rupert Penry Jones are all wonderful, but it was the relatively unknown talent of Danny Lee Wynter that blew me away, one of the best acting performances I think I've seen. Why is he not better known?A wonderful scene featuring the Antiques Roadshow team, the pieces are beautiful, I love the way that segment plays out.I don't quite know how to put into words just how much I enjoyed this, it's moving, funny and somehow addictive. Only Poliakoff can tell a story like this. I miss this style of 90 minute drama.Not often do you feel like you're watching a film through the eyes of a character, with Joe you do. A fabulous character study 10/10

Mats Trademark Poliakoff story that pulls you in; mystery in a languid way. I love several of his earlier BBC dramas. However, after spending 100 minutes watching this film, I must cleanse myself by writing. The author's writing is a bit unfocused and the characters are not very believable, but that is all forgivable. However, when the author wants to tie his yarn together he does not know how. So he uses a tried and tested way; he brings in the Nazis. The archetypal evil can be trusted to do anything strange so that the yarn can be tied up. So utterly pathetic and conventional. And he returns some objects to some Jewish survivor that happens to live in the US (read: HBO Films funded the film). What I hate is how utterly conventional the film becomes in the end. All the mystery in the first 80 minutes evaporates into some politically correct trivial resolution.

bcs4 It's always a bit of a surprise to visit here after I've seen a wonderful movie. There are intelligent people that see it through eyes that are as valid as mine, yet they saw nothing as I did.I think it would be wise not to take too much from any of the reviews that you see here. If you are one of the lucky ones that see the film as I did, you will be rewarded by an experience that's as full as "Howard's End". If not, you'll likely know within the first 15 minutes and you can do something else.I thought the acting was as good as anything I've seen in the past couple of years. It wasn't just Gambon, it was pretty much across the board. Wynter was unbelievably good. Kelly Reilly was perfect.If you haven't read the spoilers yet, don't. This movie is subtle. Give it a try.

paul2001sw-1 Michael Gambon is one of Britain's finest actors, and Stephen Poliakoff one of our more interesting dramatists; but rubbish is rubbish, and sadly, 'Joe's Palace' is not very good. Polliakoff has for a long time been interested in the aesthetics of aristocracy (and concordantly sympathetic to the beautiful), but in this film, he indulges these sentiments in the absence of any meaningful context. A reclusive billionaire does nothing with his life because he is consumed by what he fears his father might have done, although he apparently has no idea what this might have been; several historians fail to discover anything, but the girl from the local deli proves a better researcher than them and discovers that the father had been sympathetic to Nazi values; despite having always assumed that his Dad had been a Nazi collaborator anyway, this persuades the billionaire to think of suicide, although not very hard. Then he gives away a tiny proportion of his wealth (some things his father has stolen) and lives happily every after. Meanwhile, he employs a collection of social misfits (a familiar Poliakoff theme) to staff a huge London house he keeps empty; one of them, Joe, a young man with learning difficulties, is patronised by everyone telling him "what a bright boy" he is and watches silently everything that happens, commenting innanely in his diary but somehow becoming everyone's confident. A slick politician (played by Rupert Penry-Jones, who invests his lines with exaggerated faux-earnestness) and his beautiful mistress (plated by Kelly Reily, who emotes breathlessly but is also unconvincing), also feature for little apparent reason. Meanwhile, everywhere is empty: not just the house, but the streets and parks of London; in every scene, the background is blank, so the Polliakoff can maintain his trademark atmospherics, although you'll never see real life looking like this. The film as whole, meanwhile, is self-important but no less empty, devoid of real meaning and life, with no real dialogue (a scattering of monologues substitute for it) and, criminally for a film starring Gambon, desperately dull.