Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story

Director Michael Winterbottom

Newmarket Films

3 stars



“‘Fear Eats the Soul,’ there’s more truth in that title than most whole films.” Would hearing a pretentious Production Assistant declaiming these words—a reference to a classic film by German filmmaker Rainer Warner Fassbinder—induce peals of laughter? If you answered yes, then “Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story” is the perfect movie for you.

Otherwise, not so much.

Director Michael Winterbottom’s (“Wonderland”) new film is an adaptation of an eighteenth century British novel, apparently well-known for being un-filmable. The novel is ostensibly Tristam telling his own life story, but he takes so many detours that the novel actually ends with his birth.

Winterbottom tried to surmount the text’s difficulties by making the adaptation a comical tribute to how tough it is to adapt the novel to screen. The scenes switch between actors reenacting scenes from the book and the same actors interacting “off-screen” with the production staff of the faux-film. Steve Coogan stars as Tristram Shandy himself and as Shandy’s father in the movie within a movie. Off-screen, he plays himself, “Steve Coogan.”

Confused yet?

Despite the muddled story line, Winterbottom sets up some nice parallels, such as the birth of the film (the film ends with a screening of the film within a film) echoing Tristram’s birth in the novel. But the majority of viewers and Coogan—in a hilarious subplot—have not read the book, making these sort of connections nice in theory, but unhelpful to viewers.

Alongside the “Masterpiece Theater” meets “Airplane” period slapstick of the novel’s scenes, the drama behind-the-scenes is too tonally different. Coogan has to choose between his girlfriend-with-child named Jenny (the heavenly Kelly Macdonald of “Trainspotting”) and the hip young production assistant Jennie (played by Naomie Harris, the “28 Days Later” heroine).

Additionally, the movie is both jerky—the story never settles on any aspect long enough for the audience to become involved—and repetitive—returning to story lines just leads to reiterations of the emotions shown immediately after their introduction.

Despite Coogan’s obvious acting talent, the self-mockery shtick he presents in “Tristram Shandy” is nothing new. He played the same role—an arrogant actor named Steve Coogan—in a brilliantly awkward exchange with Alfred Molina in Jim Jarmusch’s “Coffee and Cigarettes.”

For all its faults, it’s good that “Tristram Shandy” was made. Ambitious meta-movies are rare these days. And this is the only way this convoluted novel could have been adapted to screen.

Bottomline: Although there are rare funny moments, “Tristram Shandy” is geared toward those who love eighteenth century British literatur, Fassbinder, slapstick comedy, and “The X-Files.” Yes, Gillian Anderson appears, playing herself. Watch her in PBS’ remake of “Bleak House” instead. Ironically enough, it’s funnier.

--Staff writer Scoop A. Wasserstein can be reached at wasserst@fas.harvard.edu.