What a self-indulgent mess! Duncan Roy's film is apparently autobiographical, however it's impossible to find any glimmer of emotional truth in this chaotic, badly acted and woefully amateurish fiasco.
In a way, you have to admire the balls of a man who through grim determination and a very generous benefactor manages to make a film about his own rise and fall - from abused, working class lad to criminal English lord. However, the tone is either so self-pitying or so arch, that it's impossible to engage with either characters or plot. The raw material is potentially great stuff, however Roy seems unable to tease out the kind of tale that should grab you by the throat, then move you to tears. And it's a complete mystery why it was ever made to be screened as a triptych of images - presumably because a single image would have been too tedious to watch.
It's also interesting to see so many otherwise good actors - Bill Nighy, Diana Quick, Lindsay Coulson - giving career-worst performances.
In a way, you have to admire the balls of a man who through grim determination and a very generous benefactor manages to make a film about his own rise and fall - from abused, working class lad to criminal English lord. However, the tone is either so self-pitying or so arch, that it's impossible to engage with either characters or plot. The raw material is potentially great stuff, however Roy seems unable to tease out the kind of tale that should grab you by the throat, then move you to tears. And it's a complete mystery why it was ever made to be screened as a triptych of images - presumably because a single image would have been too tedious to watch.
It's also interesting to see so many otherwise good actors - Bill Nighy, Diana Quick, Lindsay Coulson - giving career-worst performances.