Steve Coogan has been asked by The Observer to tour the country's finest restaurants, but after his girlfriend backs out on him he must take his best friend and source of eternal aggravation, Rob Brydon.
The US President and UK Prime Minister fancy a war. But not everyone agrees that war is a good thing. The US General Miller doesn't think so and neither does the British Secretary of State ... See full summary »
When famous DJ Alan Partridge's radio station is taken over by a new media conglomerate, it sets in motion a chain of events which see Alan having to work with the police to defuse a potentially violent siege.
Two actors, as their make up is applied, talk about the size of their parts. Then into the film: Laurence Sterne's unfilmable novel, Tristram Shandy, a fictive autobiography wherein the narrator, interrupted constantly, takes the entire story to be born. The film tracks between "Shandy" and behind the scenes. Size matters: parts, egos, shoes, noses. The lead's girlfriend, with their infant son, is up from London for the night, wanting sex; interruptions are constant. Scenes are shot, re-shot, and discarded. The purpose of the project is elusive. Fathers and sons; men and women; cocks and bulls. Life is amorphous, too full and too rich to be captured in one narrative. Written by
Why "Tristram Shandy"? This is the book that many people said is unfilmable.
I think that's the attraction. "Tristram Shandy" was a post-modern classic written before there was any modernism to be post about. So it was way ahead of its time and, in fact, for those who haven't heard of it, it was actually listed as number eight on the Observer's top 100 books of all time.
That was a *chronological* list.
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Throughout the closing credits, Rob and Steve talk about how they use techniques of various other actors. See more »
One of the funniest and strangest films about the film-making process, this is less an adaptation of the novel, more a focused and hilarious deconstruction on Winterbottom's working methods. Coogan and Brydon are fantastic. The scene with Coogan and a hot chestnut down his trousers is worth the price of admission alone! Although the film may not be to everyone's taste - it darts around and has little respect for narrative logic or continuity (as does the book), it is a freeform little gem that really does cement Winterbottom's reputation as the most exciting British director out there. Any person who can make In This World, Code 46, 9 Songs and then this in a row is worthy of respect.
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