Too much of everything

Good start, but then it gets ruined

In truth, there is barely enough story here to make a film.

True to its essence, the characters remain on the same line and manage to entertain the viewer, each highlighting their own distinctive qualities or touches.

In what has to be one of the more stranger/esoteric cast-ensembles, this film never really finds itself. Is it a dark dromedy', a spoof on the art world, is the film deliberately pretentious and self aware to mirror the self-importance of the modern art world, or just poking fun at the clueless rich? I can't figure it out, thats the directors fault. Gillian Anderson, one of Hollyweird's hottest lesbians, who only seems to only get prettier as she ages, as the lead, sucks the life out of every scene, poor lassie can't act. She needs to stick to pensive brooding and muted soft-spoken pouting, with the posed slow-motion blinking. Otherwise the cast is very talented, all with discrete character development: none of them very redeeming or likable. Most unusual, is the setting which takes place in London, yet feels like its in lower Manhattan, half of the cast is American; I thought Madonna was the only wealthy American to transplant despite the indigenous draconian tax-rate. Most everyone is a self-assumed art critic or "genius" and nearly all of them are perverted in one way or another. Again, see it for the babes, especially the Amanda Seyfried up-skirt scenes.

A comment on the pretentious and wealthy but ruthless world of art and art dealers, where it is difficult to tell if it is taking itself seriously or not. The plot is not just one paper-thin story, but in fact seems to be several strands that randomly inter-connect with each other, all loosely revolving around the painting from which the film gets its name. Numerous characters seem to want to purchase the painting, while the owner refuses to sell, even to ward off financial ruin, as he clings to his 'most prized possession'. What follows is the ensemble bickering over numerous pieces of art in several plot lines, but the attempt at a multi-character multi-strand plot a la Magnolia only comes across as a pale imitation - or art merely imitating life!The characters all have different roles in the high-end art world of London, with dealers, artists and gallery owners all vying with each other, backstabbing each other - and sleeping with each other -to demonstrate their various arty credentials. Unfortunately, with nearly all of them having more money than they know what to do with other than spend it on the latest ridiculously over-priced 'masterpiece', very few of them appear to have any redeeming features, leaving barely a single character for the audience to actually like.Quite the ensemble cast lends the piece considerable artistic weight - including Gillian Anderson, Stellan Skarsgard, Heather Graham, Joanna Lumley, Danny Huston, Alan Cumming, Charlotte Rampling and the venerable Christopher Lee, who all serve to highlight the film's seemingly lofty art house ambitions. Most of the cast do their jobs adequately but without really standing out from the cluttered cast list, although Danny Huston's attempt at scenery-chewing and film-stealing is little more than grating, with the pseudo-evil chuckles and 'god-damn its!' only missing a scene chewing on a stogie and bacon sandwich to make his performance any more hammy.The plot (such as it is) manages to be both dully pretentious and simultaneously ludicrous; even the title itself adds to the film's uncertain nature - is it a serious comment or a satire? It's rather difficult to tell, and with very little in the way of narrative thrust, the film just meanders seemingly aimlessly along. The numerous plot strands are occasionally difficult to keep track of, It's a good job most of the cast are quite pretty - better works of art than the paintings and statues that they squabble over.Overall, rather a load of pretentious, self-important twaddle.

Gillian Anderson gives a luminous performance. The only time I laughed out loud in the movie is when she tries to pronounce "I want a divorce." Terrific.Apart from that the film, although it tries to give us the sarcastic delight of lecherous emphasis on lecherous subjects, does not succeed in juggling its elements, it rather passes form one stance to the other and does not wind up its end quite well.There are worthy passages, from listening to Cristopher Lee playing with accent, to Rampling's trivializing "I'm famished!" just to give two minute examples, but it seems the film draws its moral from the art it exemplifies. The moment poor Paige (Sayfried) discovers the black surprise of her heart transplanted in one of Hirst's formaldehyde cubes and bursts in tears, we do not so much nod our heads in agreement as recognize the grisly limitations of such artistic nihilism (by that I also mean the gross gesture of offering such a thing). That there is an ersatz classic cautionary tone in the film it makes it seem more of a construct, where it should benefit from a more carefree tone like in that scene of sweeping irony in "The Big Lebowski" where Marianne Moore - was casting Anderson inspired by this, by their somewhat similar looks? - attacks the canvas flying.And please restrict those jazzy soundtracks that signal pop englishness. They are as overused as Alan Cumming's mannerisms.All they can do is give the film a more dour look, and not an intimate look on dour matters.

If you enjoy watching bad people go down in flames, this film is for you. First-time director Duncan Ward shows a deft hand managing multiple story threads set against the malodorous intestinal cavity of the contemporary art world, while John Mathieson's photography, pleasing to the eye as always, works splendidly with the up-tempo jazz phrasings of composer Janusz Podrazik.A sterling ensemble, led by Stellan Skarsgard, Gillian Anderson and Danny Huston, keeps us guessing and amused as lives and careers unravel. Special kudos to Jaime Winstone, who in the role of a fiercely ambitious performance artist looking to carve a name for herself, delivers the film's strongest performance. We are treated also to appearances by Christopher Lee, Joanna Lumley and Alan Cumming -- the film's most likable characters -- whose upright aims provide elegant counterpoint to the opposing riffraff inhabiting the story.The film's only noticeable weak spot lies in the characters of Beth, played with limited effect by Heather Graham, and Joany, played by Meredith Ostrum, who seems to be impersonating a tree. Otherwise, a fine independent film. It will be interesting to see what Ward comes up with next.