Very memorable
Added 10/10/2009
A great film, interesting and thought provoking without taking itself too seriously, whatever some other reviews may say. It isn't the usual but there's far too much of that anyway. I do accept it may not be every one's cup of tea, for me one of my favorite films of the last decade.
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a horrible mixture
Added 9/16/2009
We have more conversation between the actors than we have
of the fictionalization here.
The acting may be good what there is of it:
just hard to find with all the stuff that isn't really the movie?
I gave up on it after about a third of the way
since it never seemed to get past the birth
of Tristram Shandy.
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Thankfully, I borrowed the public library copy (details)
Added 7/24/2009
This film evolves from the novel (by Sterne) "...which could never be made into a film." It still has not.
We have two elements here:
1. A contemporary attempt (morbidly unsuccessful) to replicate the humor of Monty Python, and,
2. A sort of an abysmal "anti-film."
More important is perhaps what this movie is not: a film conveyance of the novel "Tristram Shandy." Most of the scenes concern the PRODUCTION of the film with clips of supposed British wit as the actors and the production crew interact in an impromptu fashion. The entire result is embarrassingly pathetic and, while I personally thought that Monty Python was roll-in-the-floor hilarious, this flick is devoid of practically any levity at all.
So unless you can generate a laugh out of watching a window fall, mashing a post-toddler's fake penis, I'd definitely pass this one by.
Not recommended.
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Mere Waste of Time
Added 2/5/2009
It is a next example of English humour famous for its very specific worldwide.
Staging story of Old Britain mixes surrounding with characters' affairs.
The most memorable is the non-stoppable scenes of giving birth, not overshadowed with a natural process of lovemaking preceding.
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Garbage dressed up as postmodernism
Added 3/9/2008
This film is dire, self-satisfied, pretentious and - more importantly -dull. A 90 minute examination of Steve Coogan's (fictionalized?) ego is only clever and postmodern if you happen to be Steve Coogan or a member of his immediate family. Is he a bigger star than Rob Brydon? Will he cheat on his wife with the pretty assistant? I don't care and neither should you. The only question I am interested in is why Michael Winterbottom saw fit to touch this steaming pile of smug middle class turd when he could have been making another film with a point and a social conscience, qualities with which he is more usually associated. Shame on you Michael, you let your famous friends turn your head.
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