‘Lovable and Enduring’: Why Hot Fuzz is the feel-good movie | Edgar Wright

WWith the endless movie library we all have at our fingertips, in our DVD collections and on any cloud, finding the best feel-good movies can be a deceptively difficult task. Although it seems obvious now, mine was so familiar to me that it somehow managed to hide in plain sight. Eventually, I had to ask my partner which movie she thought would be my comfort. She replied firmly: Hot Fuzz. And she is absolutely right. How could it not be?

Hot Fuzz is Edgar Wright’s second entry in the Cornetto trilogy, preceded by the classic Shaun of the Dead and followed by the alien invasion adventure The World’s End. I’m not convinced that Hot Fuzz is Wright’s best film, and it’s not even my favorite. But as far as feel-good movies go, it’s unbeatable.

Our story unfolds in the sleepy West Country village of Sandford, and follows the town’s life-out-of-water cop, Sergeant Angel, who teams up with local PC Danny Butterman to investigate a series of mysterious deaths. It’s a love letter to buddy cop movies and the action genre as a whole. It’s very funny, it’s very silly, and it’s very smart.

The film stars Edgar Wright’s usual suspects, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, who always promise a good time, but here they are just the cusp of a nebula of British comedy stars. In its delightful opening scene, Hot Fuzz generously presents the three-way treatment of Messrs. Martin Freeman, Steve Coogan and Bill Nighy as the hierarchy of the London police force (“We’re actually supposed to call it a police service now. The official vocabulary guidelines state that the word ‘force’ is too offensive.”). Seasoned legends like the delicious Timothy Dalton and the unflappable Jim Broadbent share scenes with relative newcomers like Oscar-winner Olivia Colman. Aside from this abundant pantheon, even the briefest appearances of huge names like Lord of the Rings director Peter Jackson have made their way into the hearts of fans. I find it physically painful to bite my tongue instead of uttering while observing, “You know, it’s actually Cate Blanchett wearing that forensic suit?!”

Even Sandford Village became personal. From flower sellers to church celebrations, it’s a charming but turbulent city full of danger. This could easily have been any of the small Cornish parishes that grew up around it. In a quiet and humble rural community, how exciting it would be to discover that a murderous cult was planning to preserve its vision of a “pure” village, free of “undesirables.” It is utterly absurd but eerily touching on the often prevailing rural spirit and the skepticism disguised behind the smiles and warm hospitality. Part of Hot Fuzz’s appeal is that it allows you to ponder that commentary, but before you do so in depth, events escalate into a showdown across the cobblestone streets of Sandford. It’s a tough tale for Somerfield’s great battle, which marries the village’s quaint supermarket with high-octane action that rivals anything from the Fast and Furious series 1 through 10. Avengers: Endgame doesn’t hold a candle to the final showdown in the town’s archetypal village.

Wright’s patented zooms, zooms, beeps and music make this a good movie, of course, but what makes it feelThe good is his great script, which has an A+ certificate for a quote. Invariably, fans have read the previous paragraphs and inadvertently conjured up idle and silly phrases. If you’ve heard the likes of “For the greater good” or “It’s just one swan, really,” you’re part of the geek club.

Hot Fuzz is so endearing and durable because it responds to so many needs. Want something funny? Something expertly made? Something explosive? Something that makes you think? Something to switch to? Somehow, Hot Fuzz does it all relentlessly.

That’s why I sometimes feel like this movie is directed at me. It speaks, it seems directly, to my country home, my love of self-aware parody and the geeky film community. Her quotes and references constantly appear in conversations. His DVD became the favorite gift for friends – accidentally twice on consecutive birthdays for one friend. Crucially, Hot Fuzz introduced me to Edgar Wright, on whom I ended up writing my thesis (the Cornetto triple box set is a brilliant use of a student loan), and whose guest editing I promoted when I joined the Guardian’s marketing team. You’d be forgiven for thinking by now that I’d be bored with this film, its director, and even Cornitus. Maybe I should. But, like the fluff at Sandford, they are inescapable.