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Swinging with the Finkels
| Released |
17 June 2011 |
| Director |
Jonathan Newman |
Starring
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Martin Freeman, Mandy Moore, Melissa George, Jerry Stiller, Jonathan Silverman, Graham Bohea, Elizabeth Tan, Carolyn Tomkinson |
| Writer(s) |
Jonathan Newman |
| Producer(s) |
Deepak Nayar |
| Origin |
United Kingdom, United States |
| Running Time |
85 minutes |
| Genre |
Romantic Comedy |
| Rating |
16 |
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A matrimonial mess.
Swinging with the Finkels is so rubbish that it’s genuinely hard to know where to begin. What, of its numerous objectionable qualities was the worst offender; the cameo from Louis Spence, the comedy racial stereotypes, or Mandy Moore getting intimate with a cucumber? Well, let’s be even handed and say it’s all equally dire. I’m surprised Martin Freeman lasted through the film without cringing himself into oblivion.
The future Hobbit and recent winner of a BAFTA for his performance in TV series Sherlock, blots his copybook dramatically here playing Alvin, husband to Ellie (Mandy Moore). After several years of marriage, things have gotten stale for the couple. On the advice of her (ridiculously accented) French gay best friend, Ellie suggests to her husband that they try swinging with another couple. So, they start auditioning couples (all of whom are tediously wacky) before settling for Angus Deayton and his wife. Yes, this film happens in a world where Angus Deayton has a chance with Mandy Moore.
So, apart from being completely unrealistic, the whole conceit is ridiculously old fashioned; particularly in its attempts at humour, most of which comes from the “have you ever noticed how different men and women are?!” school. To add to the time-warp element, many of the characters are hideous racial and sexual stereotypes who would be more at home in a 1970s sitcom; the frivolous French gay man, an Indian guy who spouts metaphors about milking cows and an Asian beauty therapist who extorts the erotic value of “Justin Timberwake” music. It's hideously misjudged.
Even at a mere 85 minutes running time, director Jonathan Newman struggles to keep the narrative going, and begins crowbarring in scenes to stretch it out a few more minutes- a montage of Ellie’s fashion show, a pointless trip to an STD clinic, and a flashback to when the couple first met. Bafflingly, amongst all this stupidity, Newman seems to be attempting to emulate Woody Allen with the use of intertitles (containing the kind of anodyne pearls of wisdom usually seen on fridge magnets) and When Harry Met Sally in its straight to camera couple testimonials. I think you may have gathered at this stage that Swinging with the Finkels won’t be joining those films as a romantic comedy classic. To be avoided like the plague.
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Linda O’Brien |
