It's a sterling cast, then, but, as improvisers, they're much better at putting on exasperated grimaces than they are at actually coming up with something funny to say, and none of the comedy is as close-to-the-bone as what they do on a weekly basis on TV. In Christopher Guest's films - and any improvised mockumentary about a competition can't escape the Best in Show comparison - the characters are eccentrics, whereas in Confetti they're so mild and reasonable that you can't believe they'd enter the contest in the first place. Even the naturists are resolutely well-adjusted, although Colman and Webb should receive a special Bafta for spending more of the film naked than most porn stars ever do.
Mangan gives his character some bite, simply by importing his lip-curling persona from Green Wing, but otherwise the strongest characters are on the film's fringes: Julia Davis's frosty relationship counsellor and Marc Wootton's scruffy, rock'n'roll best man. Vincent Franklin and Jason Watkins sprinkle on some fairy dust as a pair of fussy gay wedding planners, but, let's face it, if you've seen a comedy about people getting married, you've seen fussy gay wedding planners before. With a budget that would barely cover the champagne at most weddings, Confetti is a light, soppy comedy that keeps you smiling, but it has nothing to say about competitiveness, consumerism, the media or anything else. At the end, one character shrugs that it's good to get married, just as long as you're doing it for love - which is about as subversive as a white dress and "Here Comes The Bride".
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