Barry Munday lives for women, but in cold harsh reality, he’s just one big ridiculous sex pest. He’s a lean mean sleazing machine, armed with some killer Dairylee Dunkers of lines, “you’re not a supermodel, a super-duper model” and a swagger you could hang you washing off this office joker makes David Brent look like an amateur.
But after a back seat seduction goes violently wrong involving a trumpet (yawn), leaving Barry (Patrick Wilson) without his testicles, life changes for our hero. Then a lawyer’s letter arrives claiming he has impregnated a woman he doesn’t remember meeting, let alone having sex with. Surprisingly Ginger (Judy Greer) turns out to be a cartoonishly unattractive foul-tempered frump. Who appears to have made contact for the purpose of insulting him for having drunkenly seduced her. Or as she puts its it “my parents think you put drugs in my drink and had sex with me when I was unconscious”.
Barry accepts the pregnancy, knowing he’ll never have the opportunity to be a father again, and begins to reconsider his playboy lifestyle. Well, I did not see that coming. But the way this sentiment is conveyed sits uncomfortably with the film’s overall poorly established motivations. It’s predictable and garish – and those gifts just keep on coming. Like the sight of Ginger’s parents eating snacks as they stand round the birthing pool watching. And just when you thought it can’t get any more dead in the water they bring out the big guns – the air-guitar regional finals at the Beaver Tree and a perfectly acceptable soft rock montage is ruined for everybody. Lovely touch but sadly it still doesn’t help the film’s efforts to find its voice. Even the thoroughly enjoyable sight of Cybill Shepard in a green velour tracksuit ain’t going to bring this back to life.
Showing @ Cineworld, 21st of June 21:35 and 22nd of June 21:45