Thanks for the memories!

Admirable film.

The movie's neither hopeful in contrived ways, nor hopeless in different contrived ways. Somehow it manages to be wonderful

There are moments that feel comical, some horrific, and some downright inspiring but the tonal shifts hardly matter as the end results come to a film that's perfect for this time.

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.

With its many stars and connections eminently qualified to speak about the art scene, I was well-primed to enjoy Boogie Woogie to the utmost.It's based on a successful novel by author and screenwriter Danny Moynihan. The movie is a sexy black comedy set amid the hustle-bustle of fine art acquisition, dealers and galleries with concomitant affairs, in contemporary London. Characters slyly draw on real people. Critics and art experts have consequently been falling over themselves to show their knowledge of closely-linked actual persons and events. Whatever the disclaimer says.Boogie Woogie has gone to great lengths for authenticity. Real masterpieces are cleverly interwoven with fictions. Even the title work is so closely allied to the real thing that it makes you wonder. (Boogie Woogie is the name of a series of prized paintings by Mondrain, and the central artwork in the film is an accurately fictionalised piece, only destroyed afterwards at the request of Mondrain's Estate).Dealer and gallery owner, Art Spindle (Danny Huston), wants 'Boogie-Woogie.' A painting he covets above all else. Its current owner, Alfred Rhinegold (played by Christopher Lee), is desperately ill. Rhinegold's wife (Joanna Lumley) wants to up the ante by encouraging rival bidders. Especially Bob Maclestone, a collector incisively played by Stellan Skarsgard. The plot is further complicated by everyone jumping into bed with temptingly wrong people and for deliciously wrong reasons. The BBFC, after a spoiler alert, goes into not inconsiderable detail over the somewhat singular sexual content. So I won't. Fans of funky erotic subject matter have no fear: you shall find out for yourselves.Boogie Woogie brims over with great actors. Nobody needs to be ashamed of performances here, with or without clothes. They are cast in great roles and throw themselves into performances in a way that belies their love of art and desire for the picture to succeed. And so if its reach is slightly greater than its grasp, I nevertheless feel a bit uncomfortable explaining why it doesn't put woogie back into my boogie.Comedy, like abstract art, is to an extent subjective. But Boogie Woogie tilts at both windmills without embracing either. 'Ripping the lid off the art world,' is a great and noble concept. But the result here, for one reason or another, is uneven, woefully ill-judged, and a squandering of talent that borders on sacrilege. Gags aren't very funny, it doesn't arouse our passion for art, and most of the 'in' references are pointlessly unintelligible to anyone not already familiar with finer details of the respective power-brokers' sex lives.Danny Moynihan has relocated the story of his novel from New York to London: this is where some of the problems arise. Lines sound inauthentic, unconvincing, as if desperately trying to persuade us that this is Real Cockney Art-World. Subtler tones of any backstory also seem damaged. Mondrian's last painting, for instance, 'Broadway Boogie Woogie,' represents the restless motion of Manhattan. Its grid-like patterns suggest New York's ordered chaos. It has a prominent yellow which is the yellow of New York taxicabs. And a metaphor to jazz in the title echoes the movement and rhythm that are seen as analogous to Mondrian's painted marks. There are even deeper studies about the art referred to, which relate to the nature of perception, but the film seems to have lost these at the word go. Any eponymous substance has long been abandoned before such thoughts could kick in.We are, however, treated to a constant (and at times intrusive) jazz soundtrack. And much arty chat. All delivered at a speed guaranteed not to detract from the sight of Gemma Atkinson (or Gillian Anderson) treating us to glimpses of their more tangible assets. As both Moynihan and director Duncan Ward have been intimately involved with art, not to mention Damien Hirst being present as consultant, one might be forgiven for wanting a little more meat on this bone than provided by the purely, if you'll excuse me, pornographic aspects of such a pun.Joanna Lumley reprises some of the flavour from her hit TV series, Absolutely Fabulous. The familiar clash of taste and gobbiness is in full flow. But whereas Ab Fab scored with visual gags and highly developed comic characters, Boogie Woogie's attempt to lampoon style-over-substance seems injudicious and hollow. Whereas Mondrian's actual work bristles with luminous colour, the film tries too hard to be bright and ends up lacklustre. In a word, inadequate to the task. Leading parts are not charismatic enough to command or sustain appeal for the full hour and a half, even with such great actors. Timing of jokes seems rehearsed rather than spontaneous. The overall effect is ironically artificial.One of the best things about Boogie Woogie is that it might inspire you, as it inspired me, to read the original novel. The book is not everyone's cup of tea – but it is undoubtedly original, well-written, quite often shocking, and does everything the movie set out to do and doesn't.Strangely, for a film I have to admit I didn't like very much, I am strongly drawn to watching it again. I want to imagine it as it could have been. Should have been. A film that makes us care about art. Laugh about the shenanigans. Feel shocked or excited by sex and drugs and jazz. And I desperately, desperately, want to see a note at the end-credits that reassures me: "No actors were harmed in the making of this train wreck." Boogie Woogie is an oddity. Not quite bad enough to be good, and not good enough to wholeheartedly recommendable. But, like a painting where the oils contained the wrong amount of linseed, the effort that has gone into its ill-fated brushstrokes is nevertheless sadly commendable.

Boogie Woogie is a refreshing look at a subject which has hereto been dealt with in a clichéd and stilted way. Being involved in the art world myself this is the most accurate rendering of it I have ever seen.Danny Huston is brilliant at the slippery but charming art dealer Art Spindle who delicately spins his collectors into buying and selling works or art.Christopher Lee is the cantankerous old man who refuses to sell his Boogie Woogie Mondrian while his wife Joana Lumley tries desperately to make him see sense.Gillian Anderson is particularly fabulous as the spoilt collectors wife who is having an affair with Jack Huston. Jamie Winston is an ambitious lesbian artist who is determined to make it at any cost including seducing Heather Graham to have a show in her gallery.Amanda Seyfried climbs the greasy pole of the art world in spectacular fashion. There is a particularly funny scene between Gillian Anderson and Charlotte Rampling inter cut with Stellan Skarsgard and his lawyer carving up the assets for their divorce.The film reminded me of Altman with many stories interwoven around a central theme. The script is both horrific and funny. How art is manufactured, exhibited, dealt with and abused as well as worshiped could not be more on the money.It is worth mentioning the art in the film which has been chosen by Damien Hirst. There are paintings by among others John Currin, Paul Fryer and Michael Craig Martin. This is a must for any art student wanting to know about how the art world works.

How can you dislike this piece of cinema, I have recently become quite depressed with British Cinema, I have sat through hours and hours of mediocre films portraying how rubbish life in England is. ( that have some how received critical acclaim, Because some middle aged gout ridden man, who lives at home with his mother and twelve cats decides life really is rubbish and we should only watch films that say just that.) Furthermore if I have to watch another film set on a council estate or any other "Grey lens" rubbish I am ether going to kill myself or move.But too my surprise when I went to see "Boogie Woogie" it was as though the clouds had parted and I was met with a burst of colour, a witty script and for once a story and theme that inspires me. Enabling me to leave the cinema with a smile and a springing my step, wanting to live in the art world.To be brief This Film has some features that make it a great film.* A great cast with some great standout performances, but in all a great ensemble performance.* Beautifully lit and shot - The DP John Mathieson who did "Gladiator"* A story that mixes Art, Sex and Money* Some incredibly sad moment then instantly followed with some brilliant jokes and one liners. * so all in all a Fun and fast paced up tempo film.That makes going to see British cinema at long last a joy again.