Postcards from London

I'm a sucker for Caravaggio, so that was enough to draw me in. But there's a lot more to this film. It's not everyone's cup of tea, and I can understand people thinking it's pretentious, but I don't think it is. It's whimsical, imaginative, original, and beautiful to look at. Don't expect Bergman or Almodovar. Just enjoy an odd, sexy bit of story telling.

The only reason to watch this film is Harris Dickinson. He has a boyish charm that draws you into his world. Unfortunately, even he is not enough to sit through this pretension dibble of a film. The style of filming, the colours, the set designs were eye catching, but not as much as Dickinson who with the proper script will one day shine as an actor, perhaps taking on Hollywood. For now, we can hope he finds another Beach Rat where there is a storyline.

This film tells the story of a young man who goes to London to find his artistic dreams.

The film is visually very beautiful. Harris Dickinson is beautiful, and is clearly objectified in the film. The story is interesting. It is pleasing to see that BFI makes a film as alternative and as erotic as this.

Tjhis movie is a pretentious and self-serving pile of manure. It has absolutely no redeeming features, other than some of the actors, who are at least very easy on the eyes. In fact, the most attractive of those actors is not the main character.

This is one of those films that I felt really, really, belonged on a stage. The moody, sometimes seedily provocative settings; the occasionally jazzy soundtrack; a lighting and a visual style very much shot from a POV (even peeping) perspective all create an intimacy that falls a bit flat on the screen, but could work far better in a theatrical setting using our own naked eye. I'm genuinely convinced that Harris Dickinson is going to amount to something as an actor. Regardless as to whether you think this is surreal nonsense, or something altogether more ethereal, there is no denying that for a young, straight, man, Dickinson has a self confidence and honesty about his acting that really cuts through. Ostensibly about a group of sophisticated rent boys - or "raconteurs" as they prefer, this is not in any way seamy. It's seductive - even teasing at times, but it isn't about sex; even sex workers. It's about this young man using art as a (slightly contrived) conduit for his aspirations for friendship, acceptance and of his determination to do what he needs to do when he needs to do it - but not to allow that behaviour or attitude to become habitual or toxic. The story, insofar as it actually matters, is poor though, almost irrelevant. The film is presented as a disjointed collection of instalments that don't really deliver on any level; the overall narrative is just a bit too fanciful and boy, can it be slow at times. Indeed, it's not a very good film, this - the stuff of a vivid imagination that would take someone of greater experience than auteur Steve McLean to hone it into better shape - but flawed as it undoubtedly is, it's a visually compelling series of mini-stories held together well by a man not afraid to push his boundaries and show us he can act.