Monday, July 11, 2005

Wimbledon

A out and out chunderfest. It felt like we had the dry heaves by the end.

The premise is ropey to start with, but the writers don't seem to want their audience to suspend disbelief for more than 30 seconds at a time. It leads you to suspect that Working Title must possess one of those Orwellian kaleidoscope scriptwriting machines in their basement such is the shameless formulaic pilfering from Notting Hill, Bridget Jones et al.

No chance of this inspiring any future British champions - Bettany's Peter Colt is an amalgamation of almost all the stereotypes that have held the game back in this country for so long. The rest of his family are the kind of attenuated toffs that this production team specialises in.

Colt has a knack for getting to the Dorchester in his kit car by heading east through Admiralty Arch and to Brighton via the M4 and Dover. He can somehow combine a winning run in SW15 with a dirty seaside weekend, and several wine-fuelled dinners and parties.

There are hardly any insider insights for genuine fans.

Utterly Dreadful. But in say twenty years may make interesting Christmas viewing simply for the nostalgic tour of London cerca 2004 it has incidentally put together.

2 comments:

Adrian said...

You are a man sporting immense amplitude in taste... either that, or your adage is to try everything once...

Anonymous said...

Help me Dude, I think I'm lost.

I was searching for Elvis and somehow ended up in your blog, but you know I'm sure I saw him in a car lot yesterday, which is really strange because the last time I saw him was in the supermarket.

No honest really, he was right there in front of me, next to the steaks singing "Love me Tender".

He said to me (his lip was only slightly curled) "Boy, you need to get yourself a shiny, new lcd tv to go with that blue suede sofa of yours.

But Elvis said I, In the Ghetto nobody has a lcd tv .

Dude I'm All Shook Up said Elvis. I think I'll have me another cheeseburger.

Then I'm gonna go round and see Michael Jackson and we're gonna watch that waaaay cool surfing scene in Apocalypse Now on the lcdtv in the back of my Hummer.

And then he just walked out of the supermarket singing. . .

"You give me love and consolation,
You give me strength to carry on "

Strange day or what? :-)