KEY POINTS:
Herald Rating: * *
Cast: Matthew Macfadyen, Keeley Hawes, Andy Nyman, Alan Tudyk, Jane Asher, Rupert Graves, Peter Vaughan, Peter Egan, Peter Dinklage
Director: Frank Oz
Running time: 90 mins
Rating: M, contains drug use and offensive language
Screening: Everywhere
Verdict: Crass, obvious English farce skilfully discharges second-rate material and wastes a stellar cast
The choice of Michael Haneke's brilliant, boundary-stretching Hidden as the opening-night film for the 2005 film festival was not universally approved. The sponsors wanted a good night out for their corporate guests, not some creepy psychological thriller that challenged, among many other things, the very process of cinema-going.
One assumes there were no complaints about last year's choice, this English farce aimed squarely at those who hardly ever go to - and probably don't much like - the movies.
It's interesting to note that virtually every reputable American critic adored Death at a Funeral and every decent English critic loathed it. You may draw your own conclusions from that, but it's worth bearing in mind that American humour is not exactly subtle and Wasp Americans love seeing Brits make idiots of themselves because they secretly envy them.
Not since 2006's Keeping Mum has a more crass and obvious British comedy wasted such stellar talent on such feeble material. The film sent me into a spiral of mourning for the great tradition of English farce.
It's set entirely in an English country house where the uber-responsible Daniel (Macfadyen) is overseeing his father's obsequies. The guest assembly includes characters who seem to have been selected from an archetype store: Daniel's forbiddingly proper prospective in-laws (Egan and Asher); his selfish, self-regarding novelist brother (Graves); a pharmacy student mate who is carrying powerful hallucinogens in a Valium bottle; and a cantankerous, profane and incontinent uncle (Vaughan).
Trouble arrives in the form of a dwarf, (The Station Agent Dinklage) who has some unwelcome news about the past of the departed, photos to prove it and money on his mind. Predictable chaos ensues.
The film's shtick is that a stiff-upper-lip British funeral is the ideal place for mayhem to erupt, and writer and director juggle the many subplots with some skill. But the problem is that none of them is particularly funny to begin with.
The festival's well-lubricated opening night audience hooted and hollered but I'm with the Pommy critics on this one. Dispiriting.
