What a waste of time and talent! We are supposed to feel deeply involved with a clutch of actors who are too selfish and petty to feel anything for each other. In no time, the two "outsiders" at the snobby little weekend gathering of Peter and his old university friends are driven out, and the remaining coterie can get on with admiring themselves and being alternately belligerent and maudlin with each other. I thought it was ironic that Branagh's American arch-bitch actress wife, played by Rita Rudner, is the only character in the whole film who actually puts herself out to do something for someone else, when she comforts a distraught Emma Thompson after the latter's rejection by Peter, and gives her a makeover and new hairdo to make her feel better. It's a silly gesture, but it's the only generous action by anyone, even while Rudner's character throughout is portrayed as a distasteful, brash American clod, not like those wry, witty, humorous Brits. No one in this movie seems able to keep their mouth shut about anything, and we're even treated to a ludicrous moment when the bereaved mother of a SIDS victim sits down at the dinner table and happily announces to the assembly that she and her husband have been "shagging". A weekend with these tasteless vulgarians would drive anyone mad with disgust. Apart from the ugly characterisations, the plot is so obvious and telegraphs its intentions so far in advance, there is nothing for an intelligent viewer to look forward to. Early in the movie, Peter has a sudden attack of weakness while helping his friend to carry in firewood; what can be the matter with him? Nothing as original as maybe lung cancer from smoking too much - no, naturally, it has to be AIDS, the poverty of imagination on the part of the writers advertising the climax of the movie a good hour before our arrival there. This is a stupid waste of a good cast, and a worse waste of the viewer's time.
Review of Peter's Friends
