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56th BFI London Film Festival Review - Save Your Legs! (2013)

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Save Your Legs!, 2013.

Directed by Boyd Hicklin.
Starring Stephen Curry, Damon Gameau, Madeleine West, Pallavi Sharda,  David Lyons, Brenton Thwaites, Brendan Cowell, Darshan Jariwala, Eddie Baroo and Ryan O'Kane.


SYNOPSIS:

An Australian cricket team land the chance of a lifetime. They swap their D-grade park cricket for a tour of India, representing their country. Various problems crop up along the way though, which threaten to stop them taking advantage of this opportunity.


Save Your Legs! looks like it’s going to follow in the footsteps of movies like Kenny or The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert - a comedy featuring Australian characters, and humour, that warms the heart as well as remaining fresh.

It starts off well. There are a few good laughs to be had as each character is introduced and the non-explanation of how this lowly team got the chance to tour India is gleefully glossed over. The dynamics of the team are established, with a newcomer introduced to mix things up and easily top everyone as best player.

Every actor’s game for their respective parts and each fits the bill. The pretty boy is sufficiently smarmy, cocky and charming. The drunk has a heart of gold. The main character is earnest without having anything you could call ‘bad’ to put against him. You can see where the story and character journeys are going, but I thought there’d be a good ride to the end judging by the first fifteen minutes.

Unfortunately, it quickly turns into every cliché you’ve seen in a sports movie, except now with more poop jokes and ‘hilarious’ scenes where these silly Aussies come across Indian culture and get things completely wrong don’t they, because it’s funny isn’t it, oh look, now he’s dancing with a Bollywood star, and they’re pitying him, the poor foreigner, what a state he’s got himself in after taking in Indian culture for more than five minutes, now he’s defecating everywhere, even in the middle of the street, isn’t that funny!?

Anyway, yes, the movie doesn’t even try to be overly entertaining or interesting after the midway point. Instead implausible events, such as Bollywood’s biggest movie star not finding the main character to be an absolute arseprat, occur and it even culminates in one character giving the protagonist the chance to finish the game with one big hit. He may as well turn to the camera and blush, mutter something about not being the main actor and then go away forever.

The humour found in the first quarter of an hour disappears and it all becomes fluffy feel good nonsense of the most disappointing order. Whilst there was one line that, I admit, made me laugh and stuck in my head (‘I’ve just thrown up in my own poo!’), this also marked the point where any out and out jokes disappeared and any sense of context or genre disappeared. After that, it just became a light sports movie. There was none of the laughter or enjoyment, just light... nothing. I mean, I love candy floss, but it’s not as good as ice cream, is it?

Production values are, thankfully, better than the quality of the writing here. The cricket matches are, also thankfully, not as boring as they could’ve been. There was, however, a lack of identity. Cricket, which you might think is silly, boring, nonsensical or all the above, is unique in sport. But what makes cricket unique in the eyes of the characters from any other sport is never shown. Their love for the sport doesn’t seem to evolve beyond them saying the line ‘I love cricket’, and it’s quite telling that the last scene is all the characters singing ‘Dreadlock Holiday’ into the camera with earnest and slightly desperate looks on their faces.

They could’ve been playing tiddlywinks or American football for all I cared. In fact, that’s a good idea. Let’s get an American remake, with Taylor Lautner as the tired old drunk. Taylor Kitsch could play the guy who throws up in his own poo. Graham Taylor could show up to lend a bit of authenticity (I know it’s American football, but I’m sure the marketing team could trick everyone into not realising until they’ve paid for their tickets). The main character could secretly want to be a clothes designer, and he eventually makes the uniforms for the final game. It could be called All Tailored Up. With Al Pacino as the talking dog.

Save Your Legs! starts and ends (and there’s a bit in the middle) as a predictable sports/coming of age movie. The overly sweet tone tips over into nonsensical drivel and mulch by the time the last twenty minutes arrive. You’ve got ya montages, your last minute romantic save and your characters all learning a lesson and moving on with their lives (but not actually, because the protagonist plays another cricket match afterwards which is almost self parody).

What could’ve been a great comedy about a bunch of friends having one last hurrah before life catches up with them, learning about a different culture and finding love is, somehow, even more cliché than what I just typed.

Flickering Myth Rating: Film ★ / Movie ★ ★

Matt Smith

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