Reviewed by Neil Davey
Stars Phoebe Thomas, Matthew Chambers, Julia Verdin,
Simon Williams, Nicholas Parsons, Petra Markham,
Freddie Stroma, Nick Malinowski
Written by Vicky Jewson
Certification UK 12A
Runtime 96 minutes
Directed by Vicky Jewson
Two weeks ago, we got 4 months, 3 Weeks, 2 days. Last week, No Country For Old Men. You knew that the five star pattern couldn't last but to go from those heights to Lady Godiva in a matter of days? That hurts.
Jewson apparently wrote the script at the age of 21 and then raised the money to make it from assorted wealthy connections. This proves a few things. For example, that the job titles 'writer' and 'director' can be ironic when done with such stunning incompetence. It also proves that the wealthy shouldn't be allowed unsupervised into the film industry. There must be a thousand quality unmade scripts out there. If you're so desperate to invest in something, why not invest in something you'll be proud of rather than something which makes the Children's Film Foundation or a Confessions movie look like the works of Fellini?
It's the clueless investing in the clueless. When that results in some pointless little nick nack shop in a chocolate box village in the Cotswolds, fair enough. Let them piss away their money however they see fit. But when the results steal 96 minutes of my life with no legal comeback? That's the sort of them-and-us injustice that led to revolution in centuries gone by. Even writing off the lack of judgement to inbreeding doesn't help. I want to arm foxes and set them loose on the upper classes and all because of this colossal turd of a film.
As the title suggests, the story is sort of an update of Lady Godiva, where Jewson's logic seems to be 'if we get a minor TV actress (Holby City's Thomas) to flash her nipples, then the proles will come and see it.' They won't. Sure, there's enough stupid people out there (PS I Love You is a hit, I rest my case) but please, general population, I beg you. Stay at home.
The film starts with a pointless reminder of the Godiva legend before settling into a story about Jemima Honey (Thomas) a teacher trying to keep her late brother's Art Factory project going. A minor dalliance with a famous playboy (Chambers), an unfortunate TV incident with his ex (Verdin, on this evidence perhaps the single worst actress in the world) and a hugely contrived £100K bet with said playboy sees Jemima riding naked through the streets of Oxford. Not Coventry — presumably it was too dirty, common and generally working class for Jewson and her undoubtedly chinless horsey friends — but Oxford. And all to win £100K from a bloke who, apparently, is so in love with the annoying Jemima that he'd given her the cash anyway and none of us needed to have sat through 96 minutes of this utter, utter shit.
I wish everyone involved in this film a short career and a long, painful illness. I want their genitals to shrivel up and fall off: harsh, yes, but if we allow them to breed, we might end up with even more stupid people making even worse films. I'm joking of course: it's not possible to make a worse film than this.