653. Confessions Of A Child Of The Century

I was in no mood to give a movie a bad review. My football team had celebrated yet another win and my son was driving me home, so for the two-hour journey I set about Pete Doherty's film debut.
I say Pete because to me he will always be the drug-riddled Libertine who was so out of it he could not perform coherently with Elton John at Live8.
The tabloids made sure that his boorish behaviour was front page news for a few years and he became more famous for his court appearances than for his music.
Now he seems to be trying to reinvent himself.
Sadly, just calling himself Peter instead of Pete is not enough. To make it in the movies he will need an ability to act and that is a talent which is not too obvious in Sylvie Verheyde's picture.
Doherty mumbles his way through a period drama in which, frankly, not a lot happens.
Indeed, one would have imagined his 'confession' as a French 'gentleman' would have been rather more raunchy than this.
Instead, there is a quick duel caused by the chase of a woman, a couple of drunken parties and then a cat and mouse chase of Charlotte Gainsbourg.
Doherty's character, it turns out, has fallen for the older woman and no matter how she tries to throw him off the scent, he is having none of it.
But the problem is that Doherty is trying so hard to be the opporsite of his real life persona, he becomes, dare I say, boring, holding his emotions constantly in check for fear of offending.
Indeed, the language of the movie is from the era of long petticoats and where letting one's emotions run loose is frowned upon.
Thus, Doherty is quiet, bordering on meek and Gainsbourg goes through the motions.
It all adds up to one of the most tedious movies of the year and, despite my ecstasy over the football, I just couldn't warm to it.
Laughs: none
Jumps: none
Vomit: yes
Nudity: briefly
Overall rating: 2.5/10