This lucidly intelligent satire attacks the traditions of adapting, filming, and acting on all fronts except for the normal ones, producing an interesting wit-fest that will most definitely only find appreciation from more literary or intellectually humor-minded folks. The high britsh pedigree from the source material and insider hollywoodism's, amidst the subtle web of potent, multi-layered humor in which the movie relays it's processes would all but engage most closer-minded viewers. Using the clever contrast of adapting the novel Tristam Shandy, this film within a film plays like a pseudo documentary/sketch comedy about the making and behind the scenes antics if this "unfilmable" novel. Think of this labor of love as an English version of Adaptation, stripped down to it's core components, dealing more with the filming frustrations of creativity rather then the writing ones. Unfortunately most of this low key streamlined brilliance will be lost on the majority of American viewers, and to be quite frank: this movie should not have even appealed to me as much as it did, having no original affinity with the book on which it is based and lacking any true depth with it's detached pacing, I still found myself becoming transformed by the hypnotic scripting Winterbottom brings to life in this move for genre elevation. In the end, if you are willing to enjoy your comedies from a different, more patient angle then most, the perceptive material will have a continuous smile across your film loving face.
Review of Tristram Shandy
