This film apparently took four years to make, and the performers gave their time for free. Sadly, it shows. It consists of disjointed episodes: Part Two is shown first and details low points in the breakdown of relationships. Part One then shows the happier beginnings. None were sufficiently interesting to make me really care.
Mostly shot on hand-held cameras with poor light and colour balance, one vignette features a character acknowledging he is being filmed but does not satisfactorily answer why, or who by? Scenes in underground toilets and sparse lofts are echoey and lack human warmth. Dialogue is at least partly improvised, and it shows in repetition and superficiality. Noel Fielding is capable of wild flights of imagination, but is stifled by the format. His relationship is supposed to fly after a humourless ride on a Zamboni machine with an ice rink worker. The only gay relationship in the film bucks the challenge of how the couple meet by not starting until the morning after. A recently-promoted office worker climbs on a table, only to sing a joyless version of Molly Malone; technically accurate but as uninvolving as can be. Bizarrely, neither the bar staff nor the other drinkers pay any heed.
The film has some mildly amusing prospects - a rooftop spat between a zombie and the bride of Frankenstein - but these do not go anywhere and only remind us how little we care about the characters or their mundane romances.
Mostly shot on hand-held cameras with poor light and colour balance, one vignette features a character acknowledging he is being filmed but does not satisfactorily answer why, or who by? Scenes in underground toilets and sparse lofts are echoey and lack human warmth. Dialogue is at least partly improvised, and it shows in repetition and superficiality. Noel Fielding is capable of wild flights of imagination, but is stifled by the format. His relationship is supposed to fly after a humourless ride on a Zamboni machine with an ice rink worker. The only gay relationship in the film bucks the challenge of how the couple meet by not starting until the morning after. A recently-promoted office worker climbs on a table, only to sing a joyless version of Molly Malone; technically accurate but as uninvolving as can be. Bizarrely, neither the bar staff nor the other drinkers pay any heed.
The film has some mildly amusing prospects - a rooftop spat between a zombie and the bride of Frankenstein - but these do not go anywhere and only remind us how little we care about the characters or their mundane romances.
