Actor Dominic Coleman was about to board a flight back from Australia when he received a text from Mark Gatiss about a film they had starred in together. It was a quote from the Sunday Times: “Is this the worst British film ever made?”
When Coleman was at Hong Kong airport, the negative reception of the film had already reached the headlines of British newspapers being sold. He recalls feeling like it was the end of the world and being paranoid that people were recognizing him on the plane. It was a challenging and unsettling experience for him.
In February 2004, Britain had a lot of news, but a British sex comedy featuring Johnny Vegas and Mackenzie Crook caused a controversy over the use of national lottery funds and potentially altered the landscape of UK film.
The beginning was marked by a written work. Andy Humphries had dedicated his 20s and 30s to television production at Granada with Tony Wilson, working closely with Madchester musicians and comedic individuals.
Humphries shared that while at Finsbury Park, he spotted a van with the words “Dave’s Potatoes” on it. He then proceeded to develop a screenplay that combined elements of Dumb and Dumber and Confessions of a Window Cleaner, with the intention of creating a non-political representation of the working class. His experiences working at a petrol station served as inspiration for the project.
“I vividly recall there being a lot of excitement surrounding it,” Coleman reflects. “There was a competitive bidding process for the distribution deal and the cast was exceptional.” Vegas, Crook, Lucy Davis, Julia Davis, and Gatiss were all coming off of successful television projects and agreed to be part of the film. When Coleman read the script, he initially thought it was quite shocking. “However, there were also many unique and quirky moments in it,” he explains, “and I thought there could be a good balance.”
In the year 2000, the UK Film Council was established by the New Labour government. This organization, consisting of over 75 employees, aimed to streamline and maintain the distribution of funding from the national lottery to support British film.
According to Ian Thomson, the former chief publicist of the UKFC, we were very vocal about our actions because we aimed to bring about change in the British film industry. However, our project Sex Lives ultimately turned out to be a targeted endeavor.
The UKFC aimed to challenge the notion that British movies were only creating serious and meaningful films, as seen in recent hits like Touching the Void and Bloody Sunday. “What about young men who just want to hang out on a Friday night?” Thomson questions, referring to a group that the UKFC believed was not catered to. “Are they really going to choose to watch Gosford Park?”
The proposal for Potato Men was met with much controversy among the council. Thomson recalls, “The discussion was quite intense,” but in the end, the UKFC provided about £1m of the total £3m budget for what Thomson describes as “a raunchy comedy.”
During the initial reading of the script, Coleman had a feeling that something was not quite right. According to the actor, “Andy Humphries seemed to freeze and appeared very nervous. The pressure suddenly intensified.” Despite the story being set in Birmingham, filming was mostly limited to Hayes and Chigwell due to financial limitations. For a glimpse of what London’s outer areas looked like on a cloudy weekday during the Blair era, this movie is worth watching.
Coleman recalls that the filming experience was not the most enjoyable, as it was challenging and involved shooting in unpleasant environments. One particular day, the filming location was a tower block that had been reclaimed by the council due to its previous use as a place for drug use. This added to the overall grim atmosphere of the shoot.
Humphries declines the statement. He remarks, “It was an exceptional time, filled with lovely individuals, and it was a fantastic experience.”
Some movies that are often disliked by audiences can be entertaining and addicting, but Sex Lives is not one of those movies. The constant use of crude sexual jokes and unappealing visuals make the overall effect unsettling and depressing. In the span of 82 minutes, Crook finds himself in an uncomfortable relationship with his mother-in-law. There is also a recurring joke that degrades women and mentions fish paste. Gatiss’s character stops stalking his ex when he falls in love with Julia Davis, leading to a scene where she picks up dog feces with her hands. Adrian Chiles, whom Humphries knew from the BBC, makes a brief appearance as a swinger wearing only a towel.
Following a preview for the media, the movie was released to the public on February 20th, coinciding with the release of reviews. In a review for the Times, James Christopher described it as “a disgusting mess”. Other critics simply deemed it “the worst movie ever”. Catherine Shoard of the Telegraph compared it to trying to find words to describe a horrific accident, while author Will Self referred to it as “lacking in humor, value, impact, and purpose” in the Evening Standard.
Phillip French, a critic for The Observer, expressed his relief that Karel Reisz and Tony Richardson had passed away before having to witness it. In the Guardian, Peter Bradshaw questioned whether the native film industry should end itself in a messy or clean manner.
Both Labour MP Clare Short and Conservative MP Ann Widdecombe expressed disapproval of the film. Julie Kirkbride, who speaks on culture for the Conservative party, championed the film as a cause. She stated to the Daily Mail that individuals may create low-quality content with their own funds, but the public does not want to believe their money is being squandered.
Thomson recalls visiting television studios as a way to minimize damage. “We were caught off guard because the film did not meet expectations,” he explains. “I believed it was unjust to single out a film that had good intentions,” Humphries defends. “It felt like an act of aggression to me.” He also recalls realizing that they had unintentionally touched upon a larger issue. “Someone mentioned that it reflected the state of Britain under Blair’s leadership,” he shares. “This glorification of yob culture.”
Following being approached by reporters, Humphries finally spoke out through a fiery opinion piece in the Guardian, criticizing the “middle-aged, middle-class” film critics.
Comedian Stewart Lee recalls attempting to call Vegas from a sparsely attended West End movie showing, and believes that there was a class factor at play. He suggests that the success of Fleabag may be attributed to the same reasons as the failure of Sex Lives of the Potato Men, as they both depict characters that are not believed to actually exist. Lee asserts that the film should be seen as part of a tradition of 1970s ITV comedies that portrayed a raw portrayal of working-class existence.
“Andy shared with me an email that Mike Leigh sent him,” remembers Coleman, “just saying that I can see what you were trying to do, and keep your chin up.” Though a perplexed New York Times reported on the furore, the film’s cast mostly tried to move on, leading Vegas – in an interview that year with Esquire – to chide his colleagues that “everyone that read that script wanted to be in it”.
Humphries came back to television and produced documentaries about famous comedians for the BBC. He admits that it was not as successful as he had hoped, but he has since written and directed a movie. He has also written a follow-up to the film that he believes is “amazing” and has recently written a wacky spin-off featuring himself as a crazed filmmaker who forces a hesitant cast to make Potato Men 2.
Currently, the anticipated success of new media has not come to fruition. The movie has received a 0% rating on Rotten Tomatoes and has less than 50,000 views on YouTube.
Currently, there is a need to reassess the culture of the early 2000s. The controversial and immature nature of Sex Lives led to criticism, but it also brought significant success to Russell Brand, as well as shows like Bo’ Selecta! and Little Britain. In fact, Little Britain even made the move from BBC Three to BBC One in that same year, solidifying its status as a prestigious show.
For the UKFC, despite backing hits such as This Is England and In the Loop, the furore proved sticky. When the Conservatives came to power in 2010, within weeks Jeremy Hunt had abolished the council ahead of the austerity-era “bonfire of the quangos”. Much of the coverage mentioned Sex Lives of the Potato Men. At a UKFC reunion this month, its former chief executive mourned that the Conservative party had “killed off the most effective organisation that British film ever had.”
The Sex Lives scandal foreshadowed the Conservative party’s approach to handling the creative industries while in office. Instead of acknowledging the potential risks and benefits of these sectors, they chose to criticize and fuel cultural conflicts, despite their significant contribution to the economy.
According to Thomson, the medium used in the production of “Sex Lives of the Potato Men” was both large and costly, requiring extensive rehearsal. The concept was completely unique, but now formulas are seen as a more reliable option. Can it be said that the film demonstrated a successful system?
“I have a background in experimental theatre,” states Coleman. “To me, it’s understood that when starting a project, there’s no guarantee of its success. However, the process of inquiry and experimentation is crucial; otherwise, we’ll just be continuously producing something like Charley’s Aunt.” “Sex Lives of the Potato Men” is an example of a type of film that is no longer being made.
Source: theguardian.com