Withnail and I (1986) - Trailer & Footage Included
Withnail & I
In my humble opinion Withnail and I is the cleverest comedy ever written. It’s also the wittiest, shrewdest, and most poignant. In fact, I’d be bold enough to say it is one of a handful of screenplays I regard – regardless of genre – as pitch perfect. I think it should be studied in film courses (perhaps it is, I know if I was teaching I’d be thrusting it upon my students, stating emphatically; “This is a masterpiece of screenplay writing, which just so happens to be a masterpiece of filmmaking.”
One of the most important elements of Withnail and I which makes it work so brilliantly as a comedy, is that there are no obvious gags. As writer/director Bruce Robinson reiterated time and time again to frustrated executives who’d been disappointed by the dailies/rushes, it’s not meant to be immediately funny, the comedy is cumulative. And therein lies its subtle, yet deeply resonating sense of humour; it is through the characters and the situations they find themselves in that the audience discovers the comic brilliance.
It’s London, 1969. Withnail and his friend Marwood are unemployed actors, wasting their time getting blitzed on pills and booze. They decide they need to rejuvenate. A weekend in the country at Withnail’s uncle’s cottage by themselves presents itself, so they gun the old Jag and head out of town. Of course Murphy’s Law is there to greet them, and a comedy of errors unfolds.
Richard E. Grant as Withnail. Grant was a teetotaler, and yet, amazingly, he delivers, arguably, the finest performance of a drunk ever put to celluloid. Paul McGann as Marwood (his name is never mentioned in the film, the end credits list him simply as “… and I”). McGann plays the matinee idol good-looking quiet achiever to Withnail’s belligerent chip-on-the-shoulder wastrel. Richard Griffiths as Uncle Monty. Possibly one of the finest characterisations of an aging thespian queen ever put to film; “It's true I crept the boards in my youth, but I never had it in my blood, and that's what so essential isn't it? The theatrical zeal in the veins. Alas, I have little more that vintage wine and memories.” The movie’s dialogue is endlessly quotable. My best buddy and I are forever throwing lines from the movie at one another in times of mirth and merriment. There’s even a drinking game concocted by staff at the UK lads mag Loaded. Fairly straight forward: whenever a character drinks on screen, you have to drink what they’re drinking. You’ll be blotto before the halfway mark. Trust me. And for the potheads there’s the infamous Camberwell Carrot, expertly packed and rolled by the film’s other memorable character; the dirty drug-addled hippie Danny; “I don't advise a haircut, man. All hairdressers are in the employment of the government. Hairs are your aerials. They pick up signals from the cosmos, and transmit them directly into the brain. This is the reason bald-headed men are uptight.” Ralph Brown apparently turned up to auditions dressed just as he is in the movie. Bruce Robinson was suitably impressed and he got the part. The movie is gorgeously photographed by Peter Hannan, with an equally stunning score from David Dundas and Rick Wentworth, bookmarked by the excellent use of two Jimi Hendrix tracks (All Along the Watchtower and Voodoo Chile (Slight Return). The art direction is bang on the money. All up, the production of the film is hand-in-glove with Robinson’s attention to detail. Thank God this film hasn’t been ruined by some poor excuse for a sequel (one which might have followed Marwood’s acting career, or Withnail’s further slide) or, dare I even mention it, a remake. The film is such a beautifully encapsulated date stamp and case study of male friendship I can’t fathom how any filmmaker could even attempt to take the baton and run with it. I hope Robinson has something to do with that, although apparently he’s received no royalties whatsoever from the movie’s cult success. He got a nominal writer and director’s fee and that was that; a tragedy in itself.
But let’s not dwell on poor Bruce, he’s forever hounded by Withnail fans in pubs (he’s battled alcoholism most of his adult life) and on the street throwing lines at him, “Perfumed ponce!” Oh, to be able to write a screenplay as sharp and insightful, rich in character in dialogue, and as damn bloody funny as Withnail and I.
I toast you Bruce Robinson, you fucking legend!
Here's the frightfully English trailer:
And here's the famous Penrith tearooms scene:









































Celebrity Obsession
One Sunday I'm going to track it down and watch it. I love Richard E Grant too.
And yes, I've heard of the infamous drinking game. Never heard of anyone making it through the movie playing it though
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'I mean to have you, even if it must be burglary!'
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I can't believe you've never seen this movie! I've seen it more times than you've had hot dinners! Have you at least heard of it before now??
Re-reading my own words makes me want to watch the blood thing again (for the umpteenth time) ... Gosh, the concept that this movie will probably get remade at some point, some years from now depresses the hell out of me. Remakes of classics are a fucking plague!
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Remakes of classics are getting fucking out of hand. I was so pissed off when I read the other day that a live action remake of "Watership Down", which is one of my favorite books and movies is in the works. Curse those bastards if they even consider such a thing!
Oh, and some M-er F-er (do you like how I censored myself here but not above? So inconsistent!) is remaking The Dark Crystal! Shoot me right fucking now!
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Actually, I think the Tangerine Dream score was only in the North American release of the film, now that I think about it.
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