If the feeble comic overtones of the title don't fill you with foreboding, you want to take a look at the notes handed out to the press, in which we are promised the "naturalism" of Mike Leigh married to the "urgency" of Cassavetes, the "honesty and integrity" of a Dogme film and the "plot movement" of a Richard Curtis comedy, the whole generating the "humorous neurotic energy" of a Woody Allen. Swipe me. Actually, this feels more like one of those deadpan, sexually aware comedies that crop up on BBC3, like Nighty-Night and the current Pulling; and, taken in that context, the first half is perfectly OK. But in the second half it tries to go all sincere, and neither cast nor script can take the strain.
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