![]() Screen writer Peter Straughan has for the most part got a good grasp on the essence of Young's memoirs, which charted his decline and fall at Vanity Fair under editor Graydon Carter (here it's Sharps edited by Clayton Harding and Young is Sydney not Toby). Simon Pegg's brilliant central performance and some very funny gags are drained by a limp finale which leaves all manner of plot strands hanging and characters left out to dry as the film stalls and sputters its way home. ![]() What it fails to do, though, is what comedies are ultimately there for - to send audiences home laughing. It's a breezy interpretation which should turn out the crowds at home in the UK and may well attract some of the Prada crowd in the US ultimately, it's a great bet for ancillary and a commercially sound proposition for its backers. The big-screen translation of Brit journalist Toby Young's doomed sojourn at Vanity Fair is a slick package that recalls everything from The Devil Wears Prada to A Fish Called Wanda (mainly for the dead dog gag). ![]()
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