4.3.2.1. And British Cinema Plumbs Depths Below Alice Creed

So the worst three "films" I have seen this year are all British (well, English).  That's a very sad commentary on the state of UK cinema give the resurgence during the early 21st Century.  Trash of the Titans at least earned a score worthy of distracting me when I have nothing else to do (perhaps sitting on a long haul flight and can't sleep, although the last time that was the case, Quantum of Solace quickly sent me to sleep with its incessant talking and minimal action).  Then came a film I scratched my car to go and see, The Disappearance of Alice Creed.  For sometime I hoped the "director" would disappear from his apparent day job and maybe do something useful to the world instead.  The film was written and acted as if being performed by group of A Level students who aren't even top of their class in a mid-city school not known for its art courses.  Something would have to be pretty bad to beat the "5 out of 10 - don't watch it even if it is free" score of Alice Creed.

And then came Noel Clarke and 4.3.2.1. a film which would be considered offensive and childish if it was actually made by GCSE girls with attitude problems.  I assume the title really refers to the number of weeks they spent on different aspects of the film, such as the combined number of weeks spent in acting classes by the cast (4 weeks), the time spent watching other films to copy their original directing tools (3 weeks as the subtitles in Rent Lola Rent can be complicated if you are not used to good films), writing the "dialogue" (2 weeks and that included a 10 day holiday), and they amount of time this film should have been in production (rounded up to the nearest full week, 1).

This is the first 4 out of 10 film in a while (since last year's festival actually and the apparently brilliant Dario Argento's appalling Giallo) which translates as zero stars and means walk out (or don't let someone drag you in in the first place).  I cannot overstate just how poor this film is for a "mainstream" release.  There is absolutely nothing good about it and if you consider modern covers of good songs as a redeemable aspect of a film then I'm afraid you are as mis-guided as Noel Clarke.  The only saving grace is that is it is still some levels above the worst film of all time (also British), The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael.  A message to Noel Clarke:  You like borrowing ideas and full stops?  Let me remind you of the telegram in Blackadder Goes Forth and ask you to "please STOP"