Deborah Ross

Night of disaster

The Wedding, 15, Key Cities

issue 15 December 2007

Honestly, Polish films. They come over here, open in cinemas — our cinemas; your local Odeon — and, if that weren’t enough, they are smart and they are funny and it shouldn’t be allowed. What is the government doing about this? Does the government even know exactly how many Polish films are actually coming over here, and stealing our audiences? It’s obscene. Why doesn’t someone put a stop to it? I, for one, would not be recommending The Wedding if I could help myself, but I can’t. Alas, self-discipline has never really been my thing.

The Wedding is, thankfully, no My Big Fat Polish Wedding, which would be very tiresome indeed. Even the Greeks couldn’t pull that off. Instead, it’s a bracingly misanthropic comedy that’s blacker than black, if you can have blacker than black, Can you? I think you can. Further, if you read Vogue, you will already know it has been suggested as the new brown.

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