Hats off to Will (Simon Bird) for trying. Really, ten out of ten for effort. You will not see a funnier rendition of Roberta Flack’s The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face should you live forever. And it just goes on. No Simon Cowell or Gary Barlow to save Will here; just a bunch of trendy campfire clichés to sit around and watch gobsmacked. Will attempts to serenade and woo the posh, but frightfully silly and shallow, Katie, ex-prep school chum, on a vacation to Australia – and it’s laugh-out-loud stuff.
We know what to expect from this movie, and we get it. It’s crude, rude, excruciatingly lavatorial, and most definitely in your face (be aware, subtlety does not make the script). Jay (James Buckley) is on a gap year in the Land of Oz and living the high life as ‘DJ Big Penis’ and with a different girl every night (or ‘clunge’ in Inbetweeners-speak). He owns a mansion, prestigious nightclub, and is Pommy lord of the Outback, or is he . . ? Back home, Will still grapples with popularity (and little else), Simon (Joe Thomas) is trapped in a relationship with the now lunatic Lucy, and Neil (Blake Harrison) is just, well, Neil, and happy to tag along . . .
What’s to lose? Off to Australia our four lads go, and destination ‘Splash Planet’. Will, of course, is made for better things, culture, and intellectual pursuits, until, that is, Katie pops up (who, unfortunately for Will, snogs everyone, not just our naïve hero). Trouble is, Katie hangs out with a bunch of hippie-chic annoyingly-pretty ego-driven travellers, with Ben as chief rival for Katie’s lusty affections. Will is momentarily besotted with this Eve of the Outback, but we cheer when he finally cuts through all their pretentious save-the-planet twaddle with a knock-out speech . . .
Meanwhile, Neil is feeding McDonalds to dolphins, Simon is trying desperately to extricate himself from the clutches of psycho Lucy (and ends up proposing), and Jay, we learn, is seeking out the forsaken love of his life, Jane (the real reason for his coming to Australia). We have gross-out humour in abundance. Check out Will pursued by a poo down a flume and the vomit-fest which follows, or Neil, earlier, whose genitals are slurped by a curious canine . . . but, and it’s a big but . . .
Our uncool English lads are utterly redeemed. Yes, they may possess pasty white English torsos and zero wooing skills, but their kinship wins out. Their quest for pussay may occasionally distract them, and separate them, but their camaraderie remains firm. And we, as audience, root for them; we love our winning British losers. We empathasise with them, worry for them, we genuinely like them, and definitely forgive them. They’re us, the real us, while Ben and his corny cronies are a pastiche, the unremarkable, and falsely bohemian, vision we have of ourselves. The plot is speedy, and the movie delivers, and you’ll be choking on your popcorn if you’re not careful.
