Dead Babies

Suffice to say that -- despite the odd ludicrous panegyric of your posted comment regarding "Dead Babies," one can only conclude that your animosity directed towards this little gem of a film is most likely due to your resemblance of one of the film's two utterly pathetic characters. "Giles"? Or are you more like "Keith"?

It's ironic to me the energy it must have taken to not only seek it out here, but its director's credits, as well as your clearly passionate opinions and suggestions -- "Avoid [it] like the plague," for a film you so revile.

I rented this movie from a Japanese video store. Because of my limited Kanji-reading skills, I took a chance because of the English cast (and, to a lesser-extent, the unusual title). Namely, Paul Bettany, who was brought to my attention to his unforgettable performance in "Gangster #1".

I played it for various English guests in an English-owned and operated youth hostel I manage in Los Angeles. With absolutely no idea what we had in store for us, we were thoroughly pleased, enjoying it from beginning to end. It successfully balanced unforgettable moments of both hilarity and horror, never an easy task and, more often than not, rarely achieved. More so, when its adapted from a popular novel.

So, what do you consider worthy? "Pulp Fiction"? Ha! Maybe something from Merchant Ivory? Do they even make films anymore? Probably not, what with the BFI producing such "rubbish" like "Dead Babies" which received by your fellow countryman (and women) well-deserved comparisons to stellar films such as "Trainspotting" and "Requiem For A Dream".

Instead of attacking everyone from the director to the British Film Industry (Regain its status?!? Lighten up, would ya?)why don't you advise what NOT to avoid. But what can one expect from someone who TRIES, and fails, to present himself as above all others by over-using his thesaurus using such "odious tosh" as "panegyric" and French phrases as "soi distant"! Who talks like this?

A terrible storyline (Amis at his worst), pointless and self-conscious 'decadence', obvious shock tactics and patchy acting make this film (rather like "Rancid Aluminium") embody everything that went wrong with the much-vaunted British film revival. The humour is, at best, limp, and the pretentiousness of the whole set-up (including some kind of "internet terrorist group" - ooh, how contemporary) really begins to grate.

Final summary - a half-baked attempt to be 'edgy' that does no-one any favours. Still, it's always a pleasure to see Katy Carmichael on screen...

Friends and I picked this up from the rental place because of the name, and Paul Bettany. It was just woeful. Shallow, terrible plot/character development, nothing whatsoever to encourage watching it. I thought it was trying the whole time to be edgy and Trainspotting-esquire, but it failed on the basic level of having no content worthy of giving up two hours of time. The characters were distasteful, but not in the way intended (ie. not because of clever writing, more because they were so badly written as to be insulting) We only got through it thanks to a full bottle of Smirnoff and Paul Bettany in a blue pinstripe suit. Just terrible.

I am a great fan of Martin Amis, on whose book this film is based. Unfortunately the director has been unable to translate the book to the screen. The novel is thoroughly post modern and highly artificial in its wildly overblown characters and the disintegration of traditional plot line and character development. It is an hilarious examination of human greed, excess and emptiness by one of the most moral of contemporary British writers. The director of the film has completely missed the point of the novel. In his hands, the film screams along at breakneck speed, indulging in every known trick shot and 'odd' camera angle possible. It is like Ken Russel on acid, and suffers from that older director's self indulgence cranked up to a hundred. Not even the (brief) glimpse of gorgeous actor Christian Solimeno's penis was enough to save this wretched film for me. Abysmal!

It would be true to say that William Marsh's directorial debut pulls no punches. In fact shock tactics are deliberately played right from the word go. One of the first shots is of the alcoholic Giles' bloody teeth falling out one by one. From here on in the audience is left with little doubt that we're in for a bumpy ride. However, we end up being bombarded with so many scenes of drugs, violence, nudity and general depravity that one soon develops an immunity.

The plot centers around one hedonistic weekend where a bunch of directionless English graduates who inhabit a country mansion, are visited by three American friends (one of whom is played by Marsh himself) bent on supplying the perfect weekend of sex and drugs. It's kind of like watching a drugged-up version of Peter's Friends. The films' sub-plot involves a net based terrorist group known as The Conceptualists, who have somehow infiltrated the proceedings. It soon becomes clear that one of the revelers is not what they seem. However any intrigue, or indeed suspense, is dulled by our lack of empathy for the characters, who are either too larger-than-life to be believable or just totally un-likeable.

Dead Babies would no doubt like to be thought of in the same tradition as other drug fueled British cult classics such as Performance, Withnail and I, and Trainspotting. However, these films were far more character driven and weren't so heavily dependent on artificial means of stimulation.