Revisiting this cult classic from 1987, I find myself baffled by its reputation. Granted, Bruce Robinson's story of two resting actors who have a holiday misadventure in 1969 has a wry nostalgie de la boue, and Richard E Grant, with his grimy wing-collars, piercing eyes and fastidious phrasing, is magnificent. Yet it still seems a slight, meandering little tale overwhelmed by its central performance.
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