as a result of going to a cinema with a number of trainee staff i ended up seeing this film as part of a double-bill with the new seann william scott squirmcom 'mr. woodcock'. i don't usually watch seann william scott films unless you nail me to the seat - but on this occasion the two films were a useful contrast.
both 'mr. woodcock' and 'and when did you last ...' are basically films about young men who obsess about a parent's sex-life. 'mr. woodcock' plays this theme as a gross-out comedy - and makes for very uncomfortable with few laughs. 'and when did you last ...' instead opts for pathos, so the film is only uncomfortable.
'and when did you last ...' will appeal to a certain type of determined viewer of British films. there are lovingly reconstructed vignettes of 1950s middle-class Britain (the eldest son's eyes light up when his family gets a new maid: 'meat!' he thinks), careless praise of English sangfroid (to take their minds off the cuban missile crisis father and son go camping), and more masturbation (tastefully presented) than you see in most of the 'american pie' movies.
but it didn't appeal to this viewer, who thought it was very nearly a paradigm - in its careless snobbery, its prurience, its feyness, and its casual misogyny - of what has been wrong with British film for most of the last twenty years, and apparently shows no hope of improving.
both 'mr. woodcock' and 'and when did you last ...' are basically films about young men who obsess about a parent's sex-life. 'mr. woodcock' plays this theme as a gross-out comedy - and makes for very uncomfortable with few laughs. 'and when did you last ...' instead opts for pathos, so the film is only uncomfortable.
'and when did you last ...' will appeal to a certain type of determined viewer of British films. there are lovingly reconstructed vignettes of 1950s middle-class Britain (the eldest son's eyes light up when his family gets a new maid: 'meat!' he thinks), careless praise of English sangfroid (to take their minds off the cuban missile crisis father and son go camping), and more masturbation (tastefully presented) than you see in most of the 'american pie' movies.
but it didn't appeal to this viewer, who thought it was very nearly a paradigm - in its careless snobbery, its prurience, its feyness, and its casual misogyny - of what has been wrong with British film for most of the last twenty years, and apparently shows no hope of improving.