By Our Selves

Toby, it's OK, you probably had no idea what drivel that this would eventually become. Yes, distance yourself to the margins of the universe; hopefully, unless it's some cringing "and we have now something you really do regret" moment; you can be forgiven by not uttering a syllable in this pretentious twaddle, that looks like a GCSE p' poor performance Drama moment, unworthy of comment. To say it's 'crap' dignifies it into worthy of debate. We will not go there. Filming my fish tank is far more productive of dissertations into life's meaning, let alone one of this country's greatest poets. What annoys more than anything is that some individual duped well-meaning sponsors into parting with their readies for this tripe. Be ashamed, 'though you're probably drawing interest on what you pocketed. And we wonder why the US produces better films than we do for the same budget. Don't let this person anywhere near a camera if you wish to retain the dignity of British Film - wait until they're older and can cope with subtlety and intelligence.

Ambitious style. Elements blended well in a manner which would help us resonate with the character. Great Sound design.

This movie is an experiment, and though not wholly successful, has moments of beauty and many of interest.

It is a combination of a documentary about John Clare's poetry, and a re-enactment of his famous "journey out of Essex," when he fled the asylum at High Beech, and walked the 80 miles back to his home in Northborough. Toby Jones plays John Clare, walking his long way home. Iain Sinclair, playing himself, follows Clare on his journey and interviews some fans of Clare on the way (Alan Moore, Simon Kövesi, and Freddie Jones. Andrew Kötting, the director himself, appears as the Straw Man, a figure from one of Clare's late poems, and surreally haunts many of the scenes.

The best aspect of the movie is the re-enactment of Clare's walk to Northborough. Clare walks the route as it appears today, in the 21st century. Highways, footpaths and power-lines litter the landscape, the paths in the forests are worn by many feet, and passers-by wonder who Toby Jones is and what the film crew are doing. At one particularly memorable moment, an older gentleman on a mobility scooter asks what the crew are doing, and when he hears they are filming Clare's journey out of Essex, points at Toby Jones and cries "That's not John Clare!"

Clare was, of course, mad at this point in his life, and Kötting cleverly evokes his insanity. CCTV cameras bristle in the trees, representing his paranoia. He wears boxing gloves around his neck, representing his delusion that he was Jack Randall, the prize fighter. There are many other examples, which I would rather not spoil.

The interviews are on the whole less successful, though they are still interesting. They are somewhat too short and ironic to be very informative, though the interviewees are well chosen, and we get some different perspectives on Clare's life and work.

There were also a number of surreal passages, which I admit I could not understand. Perhaps others could, but that is difficult for me to predict.

The camera-work is lovely. The black and white footage is atmospheric, and Kötting makes good use of drones to capture striking perspectives on the action. Toby Jones is terrific as Clare, looking as harried and footsore as Clare sounds in his famous journal of the journey. The music and sound design are creepy with moments of beauty. It all works together effectively to create a certain mood.

But the film as a whole doesn't really cohere for me.