3. Nuts In May And Withnail And I
Theme: Getting away from it all with a very British holiday - or two. After the horrors of Irréversible you'd be forgiven for wanting to get away from it all; what better way to do that than a double bill of very British holidays? You know what to expect; weird locals, dodgy diets and rain. Lots of rain. I'm cheating a little bit including Mike Leigh's Nuts in May as technically it was made for television. But since it is feature length and Leigh did go on to be one of the most respected film-makers to come out of the UK - and since it's my list and I can kind of do what I like (editors permitting, of course), I'll go ahead. Nuts in May follows Keith and Candice Marie Pratt (superb performances from Roger Sloman and Alison Steadman) as they head to Dorset for a camping holiday and discover that the great outdoors aren't quite as idyllic as they'd like. Leigh's mastery of teasing out honest, realistic performances from his actors is clearly visible in this early work, and in some ways Sloman's performance as Keith Pratt is the prototype for the kind of well-observed yet intrinsically unlikable characters often found in British comedy (Steve Coogan's Alan Partridge springs immediately to mind). Keith's complete inability to interact with other people and his blindness to his own shortcomings (he's a complete know-it-all whose bedtime reading includes the Guinness Book of Records) forms the dramatic backbone of Nuts in May, and what follows is an hilarious play on class prejudices ("get back to your tenements!" Keith shouts at noisy neighbours disturbing his peace) as much as it is a beautifully observed character study. Withnail and I's escape to the countryside is a different kind of excursion altogether, one fueled by profanity, alcohol and drugs. The titular Withnail (Richard E. Grant) and his unnamed companion (Paul McGann) are out of work actors in London in the 1960s; we meet them at the tail end of a three day binge, sleep-deprived, paranoid, rambling messes reduced to drinking lighter fluid and fearful of the huge rat lurking somewhere in the kitchen. By the time Withnail has managed to talk his uncle Monty into giving them the key to his cottage and they abscond to the countryside, things have barely improved. Since its release in 1985 Withnail and I has earned a legendary reputation in the UK. Not only is it still frequently screened, it even has its own student drinking game (although I wouldn't encourage people to try; keeping up with the prodigious amount of booze they consume could land you in hospital). As well as being frequently hilarious (there are more quotable lines in the film than I've had hot dinners) it's also quite poignant. Beneath the excess and extravagant flamboyance of Withnail lies a bitter actor washed up before getting a chance to stand in the limelight. It is without a doubt a career high for Richard E. Grant, who brings wit and pathos to the role.