The Wedding Tackle

When I saw this film, in the cinema, there was only one other person in the audience. It's not surprising.

Although I like Neil Stukes and don't mind James Purefoy, they were both completely pointless in this film.

The plot was nearly there, but the business with the names in the diary was confused and confusing. Just when you start to think you may know what's going on the issue is clouded once again.

The film ends where it should be beginning - the titles start just as each of the amoral characters is about to get a nasty surprise. The aftermath would be interesting. It would be a film worth watching.

As it is it feels like you've just listened for 90 minutes to someone telling a shaggy dog story and then forgetting the punchline.

no wonder the British film industry is in such dire straights! The script has as much wit as the graffiti in the toilet of my local pub, the director could take lessons from a traffic warden, the actors flounder like fishes out of water, and the technical credits look like the crew never stopped their partying from the night before quite long enough to even consider caring about this stinking, rotten mess.

The story is dumb, the dialogue is wooden, the performances are perfunctory, and the attempts by the director to spice the tale up with frissons of kinky sex are unfortunately the only thing we're igven to laugh at - and this is unintentional! If this is the best the filmmakers can do, let's hope they all kept their day jobs - cos they ain't getting' no more money for movies from no-one!

I can only agree with the previous reviewer - a complete and utter waste of time and money. This film has the misfortune to be one of the worst I have ever seen - I only stayed 20 minutes, and that was around 19 minutes too long. The advert for the local curry house was like Gone with the Wind compared to this. Poor script, rubbish editing, some terrible acting and the use of some bizarre plot contrivances... what were the makers thinking of off? A 3 year could have done better than this.

Still, my curry was good

This has been called one of the worst British comedies ever but the key to getting something out of it is to not think of it as a comedy at all. That way the one or two smiles in the movie come as a pleasant surprise.

The cast is excellent and the dialogue is OK but that isn't nearly enough to compensate for the inconsistent characters and poor plotting.

There is a line in the movie which says "you can't just change your mind just like that". It is said by a character who has a major change of mind for no possible reason, either explicit or implied. That is typical of the characterisation.

There is a plot device - the diary - which sets lots of things in motion. This isn't particularly convincingly set up but I went along with it. However, who was supposed to have written it and why? That is typical of the plotting.

I don't feel as ripped-off as I have done by other films but British films have simply got to stop rushing into production when the script isn't ready.

People may question my taste if I admit to admiring Tony Slattery, and I'm quite aware that I'm in a rightfully tiny minority here. So, for me to then claim with complete conviction that he is far and away the best thing about this film, should prove to the majority what an absolutely atrocious waste of time this is.

Slattery is, in fact, the one member of the cast who puts any effort into creating a character. This character may be every bit as loathsome and unsympathetic as the others featured, but at least his gurning and gyrating proves that is trying to make the best of a very slim script. Everyone else just looks bored and pained to the point of contempt - contemptuous of themselves that they find themselves involved with this utterly unlikable feature, and contemptuous (it felt, watching it) with their audience, for paying to see it.

The plot has potential, but the farce is unravelled lazily and with no attention whatsoever. The character of Claudagh could have been pivotal, and the eventual conclusion seems designed to make it appear that she has been behind the pay-offs of at least two of the characters. However, it takes the viewer about a second to realise that none of this makes any sense whatsoever: the strands of the plot are not pulled up sharply, as in classic farce, but resolved clumsily and coincidentally.

The soundtrack too is abysmal - what on earth were they dancing to in that nightclub? Even the worst of recent British comedies have managed to create some semblance of contemporary British life. This was released in 2000, but feels every bit as dreary and uninspired as a damp November Tuesday evening in 1982.

Quite the worst film I've seen since... ooh, Carry On England. Poor Tony - he's worth so much more.