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If only all of The Drummond Will were as awesome as its last 20 minutes. Brothers Marcus and Danny Drummond are in town for their father’s funeral when they learn they’ve inherited a house. At the house, they find a guy hiding in a closet. He’s holding a bag of money. Danny and Marcus think the money must have belonged to their father, and is thus theirs, so they take it. Then they kill the guy they found in the closet, find themselves getting blackmailed, kill some other people, and pursue the tiny English village’s sole police officer, who cavorts about on a bicycle. It’s all very sprawling and sloppy—and the humor, grasping to emulate Monty Python, is lukewarm. Until The Drummond Will’s end, that is, when the dialogue gets faster, the plotline tighter, the “fucking fucks!” more frequent, and the movie as sick and hilarious as its black comedy classification warrants.

At 4:30 p.m.; also on Monday, April 11 at 6:30 p.m. Both showings at E Street Cinema.