A British take on the existentialist movie, a new twist on the kitchensink drama. a very 60s road movie or a semi-autobiograpical tale of alienation? Make your own mind up about Charlie Bubbles.
It's certainly a memorable film, if only for the ending - but more about that later. Albert Finney is Charlie Bubbles, the northerner made good. In fact, very good. He's a millionaire author, living a lavish life in London - think servants, Rolls Royce, fine dining and public adoration. But he doesn't quite fit in. He's made his money writing about his northern upbringing and is still seen as the stereotypical northerner by 'the establishment', even if he does now travel in circles usually reserved for the great and the good. Yes, Charlie's loaded, but his life lacks a certain something.
After a drinking bout with fellow northern author Smokey Pickles (Colin Blakely), Bubbles realises he has forgotten a very important engagement - a trip back to Manchester to see his estranged wife Lottie (Billie Whitelaw), not to mention a trip to Old Trafford with his son Jack (Timothy Garland) for a Manchester United game. After a quick change and some food, he jumps into the Rolls with his personal secretary Eliza (Liza Minnelli in her first movie role), setting off on an overnight rive up north.



In the mid-sixties Woody Allen became a hot property after scripting the hit comedy What's New, Pussycat? (1965). Exploitation legends James Nicholson and Sam Arkoff at American International Pictures promptly purchased a Japanese spy movie called Kokusai himitsu keisatsu: Kagi no kagi ("International Secret Police: Key of Keys") and roped Allen in to re-dub and re-script the picture, transforming it into a zany comedy. The result was What's Up, Tiger Lily?
Is it really 10 years since the world 'shagadelic' came into being? It must be, because Austin Powers: International Man Of Mystery 10th Anniversary Special Edition is on the market.
Comedians don’t generally translate well into script-writing, especially when it comes to film. Not nowadays, anyway. Britain’s seen enough of its finest comic talents who trod the boards on Saturday Live or The Secret Policeman’s Ball go on to make crappy big-screen adaptations of their best-loved characters (Kevin And Perry Go Large, Ali G Indahouse) to reinforce the point. Trouble is, most characters are a one-note joke – you can’t do a lot with a character that’s so ubiquitous thanks to a catchphrase or an action. Borat only really succeeded because he was a “sleeper” character, and as such was able to get away with a lot more than Ali G, for example, couldn’t. We knew what Ali G would say, but not Sacha Baron Cohen’s other creation.





