Amazing I didn't hear about this one until recently, but that seems to be the song and dance with these "cult films". Withnail & I is one, a film that was made in such short time and on such a short budget one of the executive producers (Dennis O'Brien, usually the best of chums on the Monty Python films) tried to shut filming down when he thought the comedy just wasn't working. It didn't get much of a release, at first... Then the buzz grew, and it's since become one of the most popular British comedies of the past 25 years. At least among those who might have some identification with these blokes: it's about twenty-something out of work actors in 1969 who go aimlessly through a holiday at one of the bloke's uncle's house out in the country where nothing goes right (least of which with the uncle itself). But it's also got sharp-as-a-tack dialog, the kind of zingers that seem to have a droll way about them even as the actors deliver them with a style that fits the malaise or eccentricities or just plain ego they carry with them.
And, of course, it's very funny. It's the kind of humor that snuck up on me, where the oddball seems what it is, but also with an air of reality that doesn't seem false. It would be one thing if Bruce Robinson were after simple quirks. But he's lived this world he's created (it's largely autobiographical), and the gray look and the grime and grit and rain et all fits the sensibility of the comedy. It also follows the tenants of very funny movies about the most unlikely of friends (ala Sideways and Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas), where it's a wonder at times how the characters don't go at each others throats, but they also have a strange bond that the audience clicks with. And, of course, there's straight-man and comic-relief, so to speak, with I and Withnail respectively.
I/Marwood (Paul McGann, great at doing an half-neurotic, half-awkward-around-the-flaming-uncle bit) is a bit of a wreck emotionally, swinging between slightly normal and totally on edge scene to scene, and Withnail (the brilliant Richard Grant, probably one of the best things, if one could point out in the movie in and of itself) who's a bigger than life dude, who thinks of himself as such more than anything, and washes his (somewhat) hidden misery with booze. Like all lovable jerks, he sees himself as being much more than he is because he acts it, whether he gets into a jam (i.e. at the pub, with the cops, with a farmer) or if he's just fobbing off whilst drenched in body lotion. It's a solid match. Then there's also two key supporting roles with Uncle Monty (Richard Griffiths, the kind of British character actor you spot here and there in movies), who's a total nut with a penchant for weird carrots- as well as, gulp, Marwood- and Danny, who in the first scene almost appears as a wild fluke, as a kind of deranged bad-ass in the guise of your common spaced-out drug dealer, and then later on appears again and brings it full circle in one of the funniest pot scenes I've ever seen.
Sometimes a joke or a look goes over the head, or the 'British-ness' of the comedy, where it's sometimes in a mood that relies on a sudden reaction or another line to bounce back. But these aren't often enough to bring down this recommendation: Withnail & I is a slightly crazy movie about sad sacks who've got their lives ahead of them, or not as case might be, and it's another in a lot of many quasi-nostalgia tales of the late 60s, only with a bit more deep-down lament than some others. That it should prove to be quotable on repeat viewings goes without saying. 8.5/10
And, of course, it's very funny. It's the kind of humor that snuck up on me, where the oddball seems what it is, but also with an air of reality that doesn't seem false. It would be one thing if Bruce Robinson were after simple quirks. But he's lived this world he's created (it's largely autobiographical), and the gray look and the grime and grit and rain et all fits the sensibility of the comedy. It also follows the tenants of very funny movies about the most unlikely of friends (ala Sideways and Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas), where it's a wonder at times how the characters don't go at each others throats, but they also have a strange bond that the audience clicks with. And, of course, there's straight-man and comic-relief, so to speak, with I and Withnail respectively.
I/Marwood (Paul McGann, great at doing an half-neurotic, half-awkward-around-the-flaming-uncle bit) is a bit of a wreck emotionally, swinging between slightly normal and totally on edge scene to scene, and Withnail (the brilliant Richard Grant, probably one of the best things, if one could point out in the movie in and of itself) who's a bigger than life dude, who thinks of himself as such more than anything, and washes his (somewhat) hidden misery with booze. Like all lovable jerks, he sees himself as being much more than he is because he acts it, whether he gets into a jam (i.e. at the pub, with the cops, with a farmer) or if he's just fobbing off whilst drenched in body lotion. It's a solid match. Then there's also two key supporting roles with Uncle Monty (Richard Griffiths, the kind of British character actor you spot here and there in movies), who's a total nut with a penchant for weird carrots- as well as, gulp, Marwood- and Danny, who in the first scene almost appears as a wild fluke, as a kind of deranged bad-ass in the guise of your common spaced-out drug dealer, and then later on appears again and brings it full circle in one of the funniest pot scenes I've ever seen.
Sometimes a joke or a look goes over the head, or the 'British-ness' of the comedy, where it's sometimes in a mood that relies on a sudden reaction or another line to bounce back. But these aren't often enough to bring down this recommendation: Withnail & I is a slightly crazy movie about sad sacks who've got their lives ahead of them, or not as case might be, and it's another in a lot of many quasi-nostalgia tales of the late 60s, only with a bit more deep-down lament than some others. That it should prove to be quotable on repeat viewings goes without saying. 8.5/10