Maybe it really was a marketing muck-up to put this film forward as a wacky comedy, but having expected that I was actually happier with the moving, provocative and poetic story I got instead. It's a lot more memorable and thus valuable. Colm Meaney and Imelda Staunton, just by looking at each other, convey more about the pains and regrets that life generates than many a more 'serious' or arty film manages despite loftier, often more pretentious ambitions. This is a film that actually acknowledges the human condition and then poses a rather crucial, if usually ignored question about life, and even braves an answer to that question too. How often does this happen? Probably more often in Britain than in Hollywood, so let's be grateful for this, shall we?
In any case, claiming that it's a crass 'comedy about suicide' as some have done is about as accurate as saying The Producers is a comedy about the holocaust. And Tube Driver Union spokespeople: get a life.
In any case, claiming that it's a crass 'comedy about suicide' as some have done is about as accurate as saying The Producers is a comedy about the holocaust. And Tube Driver Union spokespeople: get a life.