Withnail & I, written and directed by Bruce Robinson, 10 out of 10

Withnail & I, written and directed by Bruce Robinson

10 out of 10

Notes and thoughts on other books are available at:

-              https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLEVa4_CsRStSBBDo4uJWT8BSWtTTn0N1E and   http://realini.blogspot.ro/

Withnail & I is a glorious comedy that is included in my personal top twenty and I think Time Out has listed as the best ever.

There is a funny aspect regarding the preview, during which nobody in the audience laughed…not even once…

-          Nevertheless, it was discovered that the members of the public… were Germans…and could not speak English

And this is mostly a dialogue film, even if there are many scenes were we could laugh out loud at the face of Withnail or his friend, for the latter, especially when he is approached by a very horny Monty.

At the start of the film, one could almost feel sorry for Withnail and his buddy Marwood, as they have no acting job and from the looks of it, no prospect of ever having an offer, given the circumstances: “Withnail: I feel like a pig shat in my head…”

By the way, all actors involved in this majestic comedy are Super Comedians, with Richard E. Grant mesmerizing as Withnail, Paul McGann brilliant as Marwood aka I, Richard Griffiths as Monty and the fabulous Ralph Brown as Eddie.

Orson Welles told Peter Bogdanovich that he thinks the film is a success or failure depending on the performances.

In this case, the cast is out of this world, but I think that half or more of this hilarious comedy is made historical by Bruce Robinson.

The writer and director has been in involved in other great works, like The Killing Fields, but Withnail & I would be remembered for centuries or forever…

“If I medicined you, you'd think a brain tumour was a birthday present…Danny: I don't advise a haircut, man. All hairdressers are in the employment of the government. Hair are your aerials. They pick up signals from the cosmos, and transmit them directly into the brain. This is the reason bald-headed men are uptight”

The lines are so fantastically gorgeous that I am tempted to stop my “Rattle and Hum” and let the FLOW -Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi- of this epic treatment for depression take you to the Zen zones and Nirvana…

If you ever feel depressed or low, this is the very pill that you could and maybe should take to let you out of grey area.

Otherwise, Withnail can be a coward that abandons his friend at any sign of danger…” [close to tears] My wife is having a baby! Listen, I don't know what my f... acquaintance did to upset you but it's nothing to do with me. I suggest you both go outside and discuss it sensibly, in the street… [suddenly runs out of the pub screaming "AAAARGGHH!"]”

Withnail and Marwood go to the countryside and enjoy the hospitality of the former’s uncle, Monty who arrives unexpectedly in the middle of the night.

Knowing they have made some enemies, the two friends expect the man at the door to be a dangerous intruder.

But when they see it is only Monty, Withnail is again taking the “path of least resistance „and pushes Marwood into the tentacles of his uncle.

“Withnail: This place is uninhabitable…Marwood: Give it a chance. It's got to warm up…Withnail: Warm up? We may as well sit round this cigarette. This is ridiculous. We'll be found dead in here next spring.”

The approach of the peculiar, non-sexual couple is negative, most of the time, but the results are humorous.

Perhaps even when they deal with a live animal that they need to kill in order to eat and it may get gruesome…

“Withnail: This is ridiculous. Look at me, I'm 30 in a month and I've got a sole flapping off my shoe… I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth. And indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory. This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! How infinite in faculties! How like an angel in apprehension. How like a god! The beauty of the world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me, no, nor women neither. Nor women neither.”

Withnail: “How can it be so cold in here? It's like Greenland in here. We've got to get some booze. It's the only solution to this intense cold. Something's got to be done. We can't go on like this. I'm a trained actor reduced to the status of a bum. I mean look at us! Nothing that reasonable members of society demand as their rights! No fridges, no televisions, no phones. Much more of this and I'm going to apply for meals on wheels.”

This might be the equivalent of Beethoven’s eighth symphony for comedy.