Man, what a letdown this movie was. From the jump, I couldn't tell which direction Meadows was even trying to steer us. I know I’m probably in the minority when I say I didn't love "This Is England," but hey, everyone’s entitled to their own two cents.
First off—it’s just cliché after cliché, a heavy dose of cinematic déjà vu. That’s fine if you’re offering a fresh take, but that’s not what happened here. I spent a good while chewing on why it felt so grating, and I eventually landed on two things: the sweeping generalizations that drown out any actual character depth, and a narrative structure that feels more like a series of sketches than a cohesive story. It’s no coincidence that the emotional beats feel so much like that cookie-cutter Hollywood formula that’s so hard to shake. (Just speaking for myself, obviously!)
From the get-go, Meadows is essentially wobbling between wanting to tell an intimate, personal story and wanting to coat everything in a sugary glaze of social commentary. Look, I have nothing against the whole "time capsule" concept, but you really need to decide whether you want to squeeze through the door or just burst in. Pardon my French. You always get much more subtle, impactful results when you weave details into the characters rather than just shoving an agenda right into the viewer's face.
Secondly, almost every scene feels jaggedly disconnected. The whole thing feels like a transparent jigsaw puzzle where the edges are so sharp they distract you from trying to see the big picture. It’s like, "Okay, now I have to tell this part, then this part, then this part," all forced together to make a point. The plot doesn't flow; it feels like the narration is working overtime to serve cheap propaganda, and honestly? I don't buy it. Besides, we've seen this exact trope played out a thousand times already... yikes. A twelve-year-old kid crushing on an older high schooler... how groundbreaking!
This Is England: a title that stares you down and practically dares you to disagree!
A skinhead story with plenty of punch but absolutely no bite!
Yeah, baby!
Lindsay Anderson directed "If...." in 1968, and Ken Loach gave us "Kes" in 1969. Personally, I think the call is still out for someone to create something truly original about youth violence and social struggles through the lens of growing up in American cinema.
When it comes to cinema here in America, everything feels like a stroke of luck. You might stumble upon something decent if you dig through the deep cuts on Netflix, but as for actual theaters? You’re mostly looking at some ultra-indie screening at a local boutique cinema or maybe catching something at a film festival or a dive bar club. Honestly, your best bet is probably just waiting for some American classic to pop up on cable TV.
The local indie theater doesn't look particularly promising for this either... I’d have better luck catching a Cassavetes flick than anything by Victor Fleming.
rapidcobra59 said:Are we all just watching movies because we're closet voyeurs? I mean, isn't that exactly what Tomislav gotovac was getting at in PEEPING TOM... or am I totally off base here?
It's honestly pretty wild—whenever I head over to Central Park for a screening and see Tom hanging around, I can't help but wonder if it's just some cosmic coincidence or if the old fox has actually just subscribed to a daily dose of voyeurism. 😁
Kate Torres said:Now I'm just confused. Is this actually Sellers or someone else? 😕
I mean, did you catch those ridiculous commercials he did for TWA? You had that trio—the Scot, the Italian, and the Englishman: Thrifty McTravel, Vito D'Motion, and Jeremy Peaktime. Honestly, if you didn't know better, you'd never link them to the same guy; they look physically incompatible with one another, let alone with him. It's almost spooky.😲
Alright, let's take a moment to get acquainted with some of the faces of a man who took as much time as he needed to reinvent himself. I still have to maintain my stance that Rush was a complete disaster. By the late 1960s, his hair had gone totally gray, so most casual viewers are usually blindsided to find out that the judo-shopping twit (Clouseau) was actually just a dyed-up Sellers.
Sellers with Benny Hill in the background, mid-1950s:
Sellers in the mid-1960s:
Sellers with his wife Britt Ekland, aka Charlize Theron, probably around 1967:
Sellers with his daughter Victorio in the late 1960s:
Anthony Jackson50 said:Regarding the awards haul, Rush actually picked up a Golden Globe (for his role in the TV movie) and an Emmy, though if you check IMDb, it mentions Hopkins was also in the running for a Palme d'Or at Cannes. It’s highly likely that in the US, the film went straight to television. I’m guessing they decided it didn't have much commercial appeal—which honestly feels weird given the casting and the director involved. Personally, I think Rush was the perfect choice—not just because of the acting caliber, but because the physical resemblance is spot on (there were even moments in Shine where he reminded me of Sellers). As for Hopkins, I’d definitely recommend checking out his earlier stuff—like the low-budget Dangerous game (a super cliché theme, but handled in such an innovative way) and the thriller Blown Away, which stars Jeff Bridges, Tommy Lee Jones, Forest Whitaker, and Lloyd Bridges. There was even talk about Spacey being the next Clousot. In the new Pink Panther, Martin's partners are two actors who might actually have been better fits for Clouseau—Kevin Kline and Jean Reno.
Spacey passed on playing Clouseau way back in 2000 when they were first looking at reviving the franchise, and Mike Myers did too. Eventually, Steve Martin stepped up, and now they’re already filming his second Panther flick. I haven't actually sat through the first one, but still...
As for Kline, yeah, he probably would have been a stronger choice than Martin. If he had been cast, I might have actually bothered to watch it.
Nicholas Sullivan49 said:That is exactly my point; nothing makes any sense to me either... I honestly thought it might be a nod to his latest movie since they bring him up the second the scene ends, but who knows...🤷
You're actually spot on; that scene was likely just a nod to one of those unfinished projects, like that Pink Panther romance, even if it wasn't the only thing he had lined up before passing. The reality is, Edwards had zero involvement with that film and wouldn't have had any reason to be part of it. He never saw the script, nor did he write a word of it, which makes this just another glaring factual error in the movie.
It’s kind of like how that snow scene between Sellers and Edwards played out in Aspen just a few months before he died, though they bumped into each other purely by chance. By that point, any semblance of a professional partnership between them was pretty much a lost cause.
Nicholas Sullivan49 said:I simply cannot wrap my head around that final scene where Sellers is just standing there by the coffee shop, looking completely catatonic, only for Edwards to walk out and kiss him. Is this perhaps an allusion to a scene from his later film, where he plays some old man trying to recapture his youth or something similar? I haven't actually seen it, if I recall correctly...
I’m struggling to wrap my head around why they chose that ending at all. What was the point of that specific moment? It feels like something similar happened in real life according to what Edwards has said, but the movie throws it in there with so much inaccuracy that it feels totally out of left field—it's like a non sequitur that leaves you hanging without any real sense of closure. Just a confused mess...😕
But I don't think the physical resemblance is the main thing—it's more about that energy, which felt just as electric as what Sellers used to bring. Their vibes are so similar, they might as well be twins. Just look at this—isn't that just Sellers? 🙂
There's no way that scene would have worked half as well with Downey. Rush is just so good in this movie that you stop seeing the actor and just see the character.
I mean, okay, you don't have to defend him like he was some kind of serial killer 😁. But wouldn't it make more sense that the persona he showed in his roles was actually who he really was?
Honestly, Rush felt more like Clouseau than anyone else when it came to capturing that Sellers essence, so I’ll just overlook the fact that this entire airplane scene is pure fiction. It’s such a shame they crammed in so much manufactured nonsense when they actually had brilliant material to work with—just a mountain of those genuine, eccentric quirks that made Sellers who he was. At the end of the day, I just can't see Geoffrey as Peter. 😢
But I don't think the physical resemblance is the main thing—it's more about that energy, which felt just as electric as what Sellers used to bring. Their vibes are so similar, they might as well be twins. Just look at this—isn't that just Sellers? 🙂
There's no way that scene would have worked half as well with Downey. Rush is just so good in this movie that you stop seeing the actor and just see the character.
I mean, okay, you don't have to defend him like he was some kind of serial killer 😁. But wouldn't it make more sense that the persona he showed in his roles was actually who he really was?
Haha, what's that supposed to mean? Honestly, the book the movie was based on butchers the character so badly that you’d almost be happy he ended up as just some serial killer. The author keeps drawing comparisons to Hitler in several spots, suggesting the Führer could have actually learned a thing or two from him... I guess those twisted bits from the novel just won't leave my head. And then the movie turns out to be absolutely fantastic.
When it comes to projecting manic energy on screen, it’s a bit of a paradox because, outside of work hours, Sellers was anything but manic. It might seem counterintuitive, but he actually spent most of his time drifting through heavy depressions—withdrawn, isolated, just retreating into himself. He was the kind of guy who couldn't even suppress a random sob when he was out in public. That vulnerability is actually how many people remember him. That high-octane persona only really surfaced when the cameras were rolling; those characters were essentially his escape hatch, a way to stay afloat while he battled the darkness waiting for him back home.
No matter how bizarre his characters might seem, they were actually the complete opposite of who he was in real life; I used to find that almost impossible to wrap my head around, but sadly, it turns out he only truly felt alive when he was lost in a role.
Henry Campbell5 said:You're not wrong. Those are my favorite kinds of actors. The ones I hate when I first see them, and then they land a role like 'Chaplin' and just absolutely kill it. Before this movie, he was in 'Gothica'... so, does anyone actually know what his character's point was in that one?
I suppose he’s just keeping busy to keep the gears from rusting out... if I recall, Downey was dealing with some pretty heavy substance issues back then, though he wasn't exactly impossible to work with. I'm glad to see he's doing better now, especially seeing how much work he's cranking out lately.
Honestly, Downey would be a brilliant pick. I heard they reached out to Kevin Spacey first, but he passed. The whole project has basically been stuck in limbo for years because nobody wanted to touch the lead roles.
I’m not entirely sure if Downey was ever officially on the table, but the guy is fantastic—he has that slightly weathered edge and an uncanny knack for stripping away the artifice of real people. He was absolutely stellar in Attenborough's biopic about Charlie Chaplin. Just incredible.
The part that might actually blow my mind, though, is that Downey is currently prepping for a play on Broadway in New York City about Sellers. Just imagine the sheer amount of material you can pull from one poor soul; the inspiration never seems to run dry. If Sellers were still around to see this, he'd probably die of pure embarrassment. Poor guy... 😢
I’m going to vent for a second. While the supporting cast was absolutely stellar right up until the end, bringing in Rush felt completely out of place, if you ask me. It was just wrong, plain and simple. There was this hilarious joke floating around an old forum where someone pointed out that casting Rush to play Sellers in that relationship dynamic is like casting Patricia Routledge to play Marilyn Monroe in a biopic: sure, she’s blonde, she’s a great actress, and she could probably nail the breathy voice and the pouty lips, but come on! The fundamental energy between Rush and Sellers just doesn't align. Rush carries himself with these softer, more delicate mannerisms and has a totally different physical presence—he’s significantly taller than Sellers—not to mention the fact that watching him, you almost get the impression you're listening to Captain Barbos. 🙄
It would have been a massive improvement if they had just cast someone like Robert Downey Jr., or even Tucci—who basically played the Kubrick role here—instead of settling for Sellers. The whole experience was honestly ruined by that ridiculous pile of masks Rush was forced to lug around on his face the entire time. It was just awful. Someone put it perfectly, though: it was a total Crepes Suzette disaster.
Beyond just the physical resemblance, he completely missed the mark on the actual essence of the man. You walk away feeling like you just watched some hyperactive, cynical, extroverted drunk, which couldn't be further from how the real Sellers actually was. He was a reserved, soft-spoken guy who kept to himself and wasn't exactly the type to tear up a party or struggle with any serious vices—unless you count his obsession with marijuana. 🙂 Look, I really think people are missing the point here. Rush presented something that barely touches reality. You can debate the filmmaking, the direction, or the soundtrack all you want, but let’s be honest—this was supposed to be a biopic, for crying out loud!
It’s not like everything rests solely on the shoulders of Rush; honestly, it feels like the script was actually the heavy lifter here. Heh...
Douglas Morales5 said:It strikes me as somewhat peculiar that he would engage in such discourse with Kubrick, given his notorious aversion to being patronized; I recall a period during his earlier, less established years when he actually dismissed Hollywood's premier cinematographer from the set simply for suggesting a different creative approach.
Oh, please—that whole dynamic with Kubrick is pure fiction, much like half the scenes we see on screen, all manufactured for the sake of "drama," you know? In reality, Sellers and Kubrick were on great terms. Even Kubrick couldn't justify his behavior to the producers, so that whole "broken leg" story was more of a silent agreement between them, largely because Kubrick held him in such high regard as an actor. In fact, Sellers was the only one ever granted permission to improvise under Kubrick's direction; nobody else before or since.
@Henry Campbell5 I'm not even sure if "relevant" is the right word here. It’s just an opinion, really—a feeling or a first impression, and not even about the movie itself, but about the man behind it. Though, then again, most people only truly know Sellers through his body of work, while this biography seems obsessed with something entirely different: his private life.
Jose Miller17 said:Just watched it, and honestly? It’s a pretty depressing watch. Especially since it’s Peter Sellers—the whole thing leaves you feeling kind of conflicted, mostly because it tries to frame his entire career in such a wide lens. There's also one glaring issue: can this even work as a standalone movie if you don't already care about Sellers? Or how much interest could someone actually find in it if they aren't a fan? It was nice to revisit those legendary scenes, but it gets awkward when only a couple of people in the theater are laughing while everyone else is just 😕... and yeah, even Sellers barely survived being part of a Kubrick production... :-)...
Jose Miller17 brought this up ages ago... and honestly, I'm right there with him, wondering if anyone who hasn't heard of the guy will even care. It's a gamble. 😢
I don't recall anyone actually agreeing that Eyes Wide Shut was some undisputed masterpiece. Honestly, several heavy hitters in the critic world and major publications just brushed it off entirely. I'm not even talking about the predictably biased takes from >—we all know how that goes—but rather more mainstream outlets like the >, >, or even >. You’ve even got the legendary > being cited, where she basically dismissed Eyes Wide Shut as being "ludicrous from the word go."
Peter Ortiz4 said:The thing is, when you sit through a movie and tell yourself, "I actually really liked this," that feeling sticks to the film like glue, regardless of how many times you later decide to pick apart its technical flaws. It’s that deeply personal, subjective connection to the work that bypasses the usual cliché of first impressions. Even if you eventually realize the cinematography was messy or the pacing was off, there's always that subconscious echo of the initial experience rattling around in your head, which is likely why you felt that way in the first place...
If I'm following your logic correctly... you're talking about a film's emotional memory. And yeah, that stays with you if something hits home personally, right up until...
...the moment you rewatch it years down the line. That’s usually when I realize how much I’ve changed, and how much every single movie I’ve watched in the interim has shaped me—not to mention everything happening in my actual life outside the theater.
It happens often where something that used to gut me just doesn't land anymore. When that emotional weight lifts, you finally get a clear shot at judging the "cinematic skeleton" of the piece, which is its own kind of valid experience. It brings us right back to your point regarding how much subjectivity bleeds into our criticism. Honestly, I think we can learn quite a bit about ourselves from that process, and maybe even more about other people. It's actually pretty fascinating.
Yeah, you hit the nail on the head there, though I suppose there are those rare few who actually possess the discipline to judge a movie by its own merits rather than letting their personal baggage cloud the view. Take Pauline Kael, for instance; if you dive into her critiques—and she certainly didn't hold back on anything—you see what true mastery looks like. That’s really the gold standard we should be aiming for. (Though, I can't tell if I'm being a bit pushy by saying that...)
I'd like to think I'm actually pretty good at avoiding that kind of ego-driven lecturing; instead, I try to tap into what someone else is actually feeling, what moves them, or what specific cinematic itch they're trying to scratch. My goal is just to find those common threads and suggest films that speak to that same mood or dilemma. Maybe I'm just being optimistic, but...
I think people get tripped up because my tastes are all over the map—one day I'm waxing poetic about Ingmar Bergman, the next I'm vibing with Pierre-Auguste Renoir, then I'll pivot to some random Dad flick, or dive straight into total trash, or suddenly find myself obsessed with Hidden. On paper, it makes zero sense. But for me, the real challenge is stripping away the noise to see a good film for what it is, especially since I've realized my own biases against certain genres or directors have cost me plenty of great movies in the past. At the end of the day, you just have to keep watching...
Amy Torres4 said:Sellers is a total legend, seriously👍 and honestly, The Party might even top the Pink Panther series... but man, why is it impossible to find anywhere on streaming or in any video store? It's like it doesn't even exist! 😕
We don't really have The Party around here; you have to look abroad for that kind of thing. You can find it with English subtitles, though there isn't much dialogue to begin with since the whole movie was designed as an open form—basically a massive homage to Jacques Tati. Most of it was actually improvised; there wasn't even a formal script, just Sellers building out scenes one by one in collaboration with Edwards. They basically had the cash and the luxury of time, so they grabbed Henry Mancini and decided to film a little something.
Sellers was actually pretty happy with it, even if he admitted the whole structure starts to fall apart about three-quarters of the way through. Still, it’s a solid effort all things considered.
Nicholas Sullivan49 said:It’s true, I was mostly sitting through the first film just to catch those Peter Sellers moments... but I had no idea that Sellers and Edwards actually couldn't stand each other!!!!😕
Oh, that was one of those legendary feuds. Both men were so deeply entrenched in their own ways that the entire crew felt the friction from their constant clashes. Personally, I think Edwards should have been more mature about the whole thing; Sellers never really grew out of that five-year-old emotional stage, so he probably deserved a bit more hand-holding. Edwards, on the other hand, was—and still is—a pretty ruthless, ego-driven guy who completely failed to grasp that Sellers' aggression was just a mask for massive insecurity and a deep-seated sense of inadequacy. Kubrick, though, proved to be a master psychologist in this scenario, which is exactly why he managed to pull off those anthology-level performances. As long as Sellers felt supported and understood, he never let a director down; in fact, his grasp of character often surpassed even the screenwriter's. His creative input was essentially that elusive third dimension. Honestly, who else was creating characters with that much life in them?
There’s a specific breed of comedian who essentially functions as a singular, cohesive persona—think Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Louis de Funès, or Woody Allen. They all operate from that same fundamental frequency where the humor and the character are inseparable. Sellers, however, never played that game; he was never just "one thing." His performances consistently birthed characters that felt visceral and tangible because he intuitively understood what most actors miss: you get much more out of building a persona through granular details and raw, dissected emotions rather than leaning on broad generalizations. It’s a much harder road to travel, but it’s exactly why his work feels so distinct. It’s a total defiance of the old *commedia dell'arte* playbook.
The whole Clouseau thing is really just a series of defiant outbursts against a malicious Blake that somehow, by pure accident, managed to turn into a cash cow.
