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Smutty talk justifies 12A certificate |
New grounds for corporal punishment at St T’s
ST TRINIAN'S
Directed by Oliver Parker and Barnaby Thompson
Certificate 12a
LADIES, you’re in for a shock. Two of our home-grown heart-throbs on the screen together, but – oh dear me, one is in drag and the other is a toffee-nosed twit.
Step forward Rupert Everett and Colin Firth, in a raucous update of the legendary 1950s series about those saucy schoolgirls in their gymslips and suspenders inspired by Ronald Searle’s cartoons, who are back chalking up more mayhem in the classroom.
There are two problems. The “new” St Trinian’s film isn’t new, or funny. It’s as dated as the original Ealing Films logo that greets us ahead of the credits, reminding us of the good old days when the West London studios reigned supreme in the world of celluloid comedy.
Second problem: the humour is as excruciating as fingernails being scraped down a blackboard. You might get a chuckle if you happen to be in the kindergarten, in which case the 12a certificate is liable to defeat you anyway. But there’s an awful lot of smutty talk about sex, lies and rock ’n’ roll, which supposedly justifies it.
But now we have Rupert Everett (also executive producer) in the dual role of beleaguered headmistress Millicent Fritton and her brother Carnaby (remember that acting genius Alastair Sim with his saucer eyes and richly fruity voice?) who is on the receiving end of the ructions.
The girls are out to pull off a scam involving the theft of a priceless art treasure to clear off enormous debts and save their school from closure.
Rupert parades around in a huge feathered hat and purple scarf, looking and sounding like Esther Rantzen, oblivious to the drugs and pregnancy tests rife in modern-day St T’s. Firth is suitably stiff-upper-lipped as MP Geoffrey Thwaites planning to turn the place into a respectable ladies college.
Familiar faces surface, led by Stephen Fry as a quiz show host, Celia Imrie as matron and Toby Jones as the bursar. But with this script, they’re on to a hiding for nothing.
Marks out of ten: nought. Please, teacher, may I be excused! |
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