Bank of Dave 2: The Loan Ranger — Another gleeful underdog saga

Bank of Dave 2: The Loan Ranger (2025) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five); Unrated, and suitable for all ages

Available via: Amazon Prime and other VOD options

By Derrick Bang

Back in 2023, director Chris Foggin’s delightful Bank of Dave depicted how England’s Dave Fishwick rose from a working-class bloke who parlayed his one-man car repair shop into Britain’s largest minibus supplier, and then — enraged by what the 2008 financial crisis did to ordinary folks — set up his own lending company.

 

After Dave Fishwick (Rory Kinnear, foreground) publicizes the predatory tactics of payday
lenders, they fight back in a way that drags him into court and threatens the existence of
his bank. His colleagues — from left, David (Pearce Quigley), Oliver (Amit Shah) and
Jessica (Chrissy Metz) — offer words of encouragement.

He vowed to do what bank CEOs had forgotten or ignored: to help people and do no harm.

Scripters Piers Ashworth and Clare Keogh shaded some events — it was a film, not a documentary — but the core jaw-dropping details were accurate. (Channel 4’s actual 2012 documentary is readily available via YouTube.)

 

But Fishwick wasn’t finished.

 

Foggin and Ashworth are back, with the just-released Bank of Dave 2: The Loan Ranger, which delivers an equally entertaining and provocative account of what Fishwick did starting in 2013, after learning that some of his customers were being bled dry by the usurious interest charged by payday lending firms.

 

(We’re warned, as was the case with the first film, that this one’s narrative is “true-ish” at best.)

 

Rory Kinnear and Jo Hartley return as Dave and his wife, Nicky, who make the perfect team. Events kick off quickly, when — during a chat show — Dave hears from a caller who is being buried beneath crippling interest rates on a payday loan. 

 

He’s stunned to discover that the British government has done nothing about this predatory business model. Dave then allies himself with Oliver (Amit Shah), a Citizen’s Advice & Law Center counsellor who can lead him to numerous victims. 

 

But unlike Dave’s earlier battle, which was limited to British entities, he and Oliver learn that the two largest payday offenders — dubbed Quickdough and Snapcash Advance — are overseen by a dodgy wealthy American named Carlo Mancini (Rob Delaney). This prompts Dave to cajole Jessica (Chrissy Metz), a New York-based financial journalist, into joining them in his Lancashire home town of Burnley.

 

Their subsequent crusade runs into serious roadblocks. None of the victims is willing to testify in court, for fear of being slapped with even higher interest rates. And while interviewing such folks, Dave learns that both operations are run solely online ... meaning that there’s no physical place for borrowers to pay back in cash, even if they have the necessary amount.

 

That really annoys him ... but it also prompts the ingenious manner with which he decides to channel public outrage, social media being more of a force than it was, back in 2008.

The Good House: Reasonably well constructed

The Good House (2022) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated R, for profanity and brief sexuality

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang

Because we spend so much time inside her protagonist’s head, there was only one way to successfully bring Ann Leary’s 2013 novel to the big screen.

 

Happily, writer/directors Maya Forbes and Wallace Wolodarsky — with a scripting assist from Thomas Bezucha — took the bold approach.

 

Although much of her life is sliding down the drain, Hildy (Sigourney Weaver) always
finds joy while walking her dogs with longtime friend Frank (Kevin Kline).

Sigourney Weaver’s Hildy Good constantly breaks the fourth wall to address us viewers directly, while sharing her thoughts, opinions, vexations and disappointments regarding the friends, neighbors and fellow citizens in the Massachusetts town of Wendover. Born and bred in this adorable coastal community, Hildy regards herself as its unofficial matriarch.

Outwardly, she’s the embodiment of the Puritan work ethic: industrious, practical and self-reliant, having raised herself up from working-class “townie” to become the most successful Realtor on Boston’s tony North Shore.

 

But as a longtime alcoholic who refuses to acknowledge that she has a problem, Hildy also is a wholly unreliable narrator.

 

Weaver makes her tart, witty, well-read and acutely perceptive; her snarky line deliveries and authoritative body language brook no dissent. Hildy is descended from witches, and may be a “Gammy” herself, given an uncanny ability to “read” people while holding their hands.

 

She also has two adorably cute dogs, who follow her every move.

 

As this story begins, though, Hildy has just returned from an enforced rehab intervention staged by her daughters, Tess (Rebecca Henderson) and Emily (Molly Brown). Tess is married, with a family; as we initially meet her, Henderson makes the woman seem severe, strict and judgmental … borderline unlikable. (Savvy viewers will understand that this often is inevitable, in children raised by alcoholics.)

 

As time passes, though, Henderson’s subtle performance reveals the unfairness of that initial reading.

 

Brown’s Emily, still in college, is rather obtuse: wrapped up in herself, and definitely exuding an aura of entitlement.

 

Hildy is snappish and humiliated by the embarrassment of having been “outed” so visibly, by her family and close friends. She also doesn’t understand what the fuss is all about; she never met a problem that couldn’t be solved over two glasses of Pinor Noir, and besides … she’s more fun when she’s drinking.

 

Until she isn’t.