And with the first breaths of Summer comes the first of the UK TV Sitcom adaptations (a spin-off from The Office lands next month), in what appears to be an annual push to make the small screen big. The long-mooted revival of Absolutely Fabulous certainly has the cast-list and the enthusiastic fan-base*1 to be a contender, but can it live up to its own titular premise..?
The screenplay opts for the tried and tested Holiday On The Buses*2 format, having the central characters Patsy and Edina flee to the south of France in a bid to escape negative press-attention after seemingly having killed Kate Moss. If the premise sounds a little flimsy, it's supported by solid humour (both scripted and visual), and the approach to celebrity-cameos that Rambo takes to backup ammunition. Playing spot-the-star is a lot of fun at first, but really stars to wear thin by the halfway-point in the film. On the plus side though everyone's enjoying their 15 seconds of fame, which counts for a lot, and you can tell that there was a queue of people wanting to appear, rather than a queue of favours waiting to be called in.
In the spirit of the TV series, AbFab does what it does well and revels in its own silliness. Saunders and Lumley are on fantastic form, and the first half hour is the most enjoyable when the pair are in their element on home-turf. Other TV-cast regulars show willing but are sidelined a little (although that's very much the nature of the characters anyway). As is par for the course with these things, the story itself is almost a bit of an afterthought, but that's always the way when you're adapting from thirty-minute TV shows. And when that narrative begins to creak, it's difficult to coast on charm when your party-trick is being professionally gauche.
More of a collection of set-pieces and running gags than a story-proper (although this applies to most comedy movies these days, to be fair), Jennifer Saunders' screenplay doesn't necessarily expand on any existing story-canon, and in the end it doesn't really feel like it's added anything unique to what's come before. In fact, you can almost hear the penny drop at around 82 minutes where the realisation that everything needs to be tied up sharpish really hits home. But it's easy to watch, consistently funny and never too mean-spirited, so this transition already fares better than others in its class (AbFab's spiritual sibling Bottom being a prime example).
While it's not going to win any awards nor make new fans, Absolutely Fabulous is very entertaining. Perhaps even more superficial than it intends to be, but saved by embracing its own preposterousness rather than fighting it.
Although, y'know. It's not a film.
In terms of comedy, just about any Sumer Brit-com of the last five years, even though this is actually better than the vast majority of them.
For the communal laughter, sure.
It sets its own bar low, and it clears it with ease.
Not best exactly, but reliably competent.
Nope.
Nope.
Level 1: This film's got Celia 'Bravo 5' Imrie in it. And Gwendoline 'Phasma' Christie.
*1 The good news is that Friday night is movie night and Screen 1 was packed. Although it was mostly made up of a civilian audience. That doesn't matter to the accounting department of course (and nor should it), but the two patrons occupying our seats when we arrived knew emphatically (if cheerfully) that they were in G15 and G16, despite evidently not being able to read the numbers G11 and G12 on the seats they were actually in. Sent those fuckers packing, mind (again, cheerfully). You don't start that shit in my local, I don't care how many stamps you've got on your Lambrini gold-card…
*2 Essentially where the characters from an established TV sitcom find themselves, for their cinematic adaptation, travelling to a more exotic location, often the coast or seaside and often by the narrative means of going on a holiday. In the past it was the aforementioned Holiday On The Buses and Are You Being Served, lately it's been Bad Education and The Intbetweeners (twice). As structures go, it's as lazy as it is reliable, ironically forcing the writers to work even harder to keep things moving. Well, it's supposed to...
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Well, thanks a bunch. This is how Karma repays me for daring to venture out of my comfort-zone and take a punt on a movie which wouldn't normally appeal. I can't remember the last time I was patronised for so long and with such brutal, cinematic efficiency. Thea Sharrock's screen adaptation of Jojo Moyes' weepy-bestseller could only be more twee if the cast were replaced by kittens wearing unicorn costumes, nibbling on cupcakes while The Archers played in the background.
The story of the soulful, burgeoning romance between Will Traynor, a quadriplegic former business-whizz and Louisa Clark, his pro-level Ditzy™ hired-companion is headed up by Emilia Clarke, who deftly weaves between giving me motion-sickness by acting entirely with her eyebrows, and inducing a migraine with a succession of garish outfits*1, the likes of which bellow "Look at how UNIQUE I am!!" before she's even walked around the corner. Her simpering performance is further hampered by a screenplay which has the audacity to stop and explain itself every ten minutes, and a one-dimensional supporting cast spouting vacuous clichés instead of dialogue.
Perhaps ironically, the only person to escape more or less unscathed here is Sam Claflin, as the wheelchair-bound Will, struggling to come to terms with disability two years after a road-accident, despite having the best facilities and physical support that money can buy. Claflin is on very solid form here, and certainly believes he's in a far better film. This helps his performance no end, but does nothing for his co-stars. Sadly, the film isn't really interested in the only interesting character it has, and we can only imagine the turmoil he's been going through (by which I mean that we can only imagine this because it's explained, but not really shown).
Maybe I expected a film which would explore the psychology of disability for a mainstream audience. But this isn't a film about Will. This is a film about Lou, who manages to end her journey every bit as directionless and self-absorbed as she began it. If this whole thing is a post-modern experiment of social juxtaposition, intended to demonstrate to an able-bodied audience what it's like to be endlessly condescended to, then well done.
Thanks, Karma.
In the next twenty four hours I'll be sitting watching three X-Men movies back to back, and I'm going to gleefully savour every. single. punch.
Banging yourself over the head with a tin tray for an hour and a half.
This is a DVD, even for its target audience.
If you're in its target audience, I imagine it does, yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
Level 2: Emilia Clarke is in Game of Thrones, of course*2, along with Gwendoline 'Phasma' Christie. Oh, that the bodycount was anywhere near as high in this film...
*1 The film makes a point of repeatedly telling the audience how hard-up Clarke's working class family is, and that she's only taking the job to support them. This, despite her having costume-change for every single scene and never wearing the same item of clothing twice. Given that the fusty village she lives in is populated by people who wear beige crimplene as a fashion statement, it's staggering to think how much of her family's much-needed money she's spending on looking like An Australian's Nightmare™. Why do so many films automatically translate "quirky" as "annoying"?
*2 And is, ironically, one of the few things I enjoyed about the episodes of GoT I managed to get through.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
After all of the 'true story' cinema I've seen lately, I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about sitting down to watch a tale about stock-market fraud for three hours (especially when the above trailer gives you so little in terms of plot movement). But, when it comes down to it, I like what both DiCaprio and McConaughey are putting out these days, so what's to lose?
Anway; I liked it. The Wolf Of Wall Street is almost beautifully amoral, being told almost entirely from the viewpoint of Jordan Belfort, a Wall Street stockbroker who at least had the front to feel absolutely no remorse for his willfully illegal dealings. The film doesn't cast any moralistic judgement over Belfort's actions purely because he himself didn't; he wanted to get rich because it's better than being poor, and on the surface alone, there are few people in this day and age who would disagree. But because the film is told from Jordan's point-of-view, what we get is almost entirely surface. We don't get to see the fallout from his actions, other than the events which happen to him personally (and even the worst of those are skipped over quite glibly).
The film is rated 18 in the UK for the strong sex and drug scenes, and deservedly so, although it's definitely the casual and repeated use of the latter which has pushed it over that bar. Personally I don't think it glamourises drug use, per se*1, but it certainly doesn't demonise it either.
tWoWS*2 has the feeling of a character-piece, even though that central character is strictly (and necessarily) one-dimensional, and even though the narrative (while linear) does drive it to its inevitable conclusion. Clocking in at three hours, it does feel like 'a long film', but the constant escalation of ridiculousness means it doesn't drag or become repetitive; a bit like a financial Scarface. On a quieter note, the film features a parallel between Belfort and Denham, the FBI Agent who's investigating him, which I wanted to see more of, and I'm wondering how much (if any) of that comes from the book. Not that I have time to read the book.
For the record, Leonardo DiCaprio, Matthew McConaughey, Margot Robbie, Jonah Hill, Jon Bernthal, and Joanna Lumley: All fantastic. And I suspect I was the only one who, upon seeing Ethan Suplee in Belfort's sales team, wanted to stand up and shout "Goddammit Randy, I get to have the moustache!"
Although you can't actively 'like' Jordan Belfort, and certainly can't approve of his behaviour and actions, you can't help but admire that he got away with it for so long, and came out the other side with a story to tell. Less of a cautionary tale, more of a cautious boast, The Wolf of Wall Street is far more compelling, and entertaining, than it probably has any right to be in 2014.
It represents the craziness of the film, but not the narrative.
Largely.
Largely.
Cinema would be good, but not essential.
No.
At some point.
Not that I heard.
But it wasn't just me who squirmed at 'the flirting scene' in London, was it? Was it?
*1 Although the sequence with the Lamborghini and the country club is fucking funny, even though it really shouldn't be. Even though it is intended to be. Which just adds to it, really.
*2 I believe that's what all the cool kids are calling it. Certainly the kids in Yorkshire, anyway, and I they are cool. No, you fuck off, I wasn't being sarcastic. *rolls eyes*
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
