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It's a mild crowd pleaser for people who are exhausted by blockbusters.

Excellent characters with emotional depth. My wife, daughter and granddaughter all enjoyed it...and me, too! Very good movie! You won't be disappointed.

Great example of an old-fashioned, pure-at-heart escapist event movie that doesn't pretend to be anything that it's not and has boat loads of fun being its own ludicrous self.

PICCADILLY JIM is one of my favorite Wodehouse books. It's a non-series novel with the concomitant flaws of early Wodehouse. But the story has Wodehouse's most masterly "impostor" plot where a young man is introduced as a guest into a private home masquerading ... as himself. If you want an explanation, see this movie and all will be made clear.The cast is excellent. Sam Rockwell enters the Wodehouse world with surprising aplomb as Jimmy. Tom Wilkinson is superb as his father, an ex-pat American married to a woman (improbably) trying to buy him a title; but he misses baseball so much he sails home pretending to be a butler. Rockwell and Wilkinson have a tremendous rapport. Meanwhile, the real butler (Geoffrey Palmer) is assumed to be Rockwell's father by Francis O'Connor as the love interest. All clear? No? Good! The movie remains strangely loyal to Wodehouse's convoluted story, tinkering with it here and there for clarity. It's played up to the hilt, but none of the actors (even Hugh Bonneville, the worst offender as a German spy never quite goes over the top--though given the setting of the movie and the time the book was written it's never clear whether he's working for the Nazis or the Kaiser in trying to steal a new secret bomb formula, a little thing Wodehouse threw in just for added confusion).The problem most people have with this flick is the problem I feared I might have. And it's a perfectly valid criticism. Read on.While this Wodehouse is thankfully set in the 1930s (actually, PICCADILLY JIM was written a lot earlier, but we'll let that pass) it is a thirties that never existed except in the beautifully deranged minds of the designers. It's an alternative-history thirties, done in steampunk style. These thirties were never as they were (certainly no one seems to feel there's a depression on) but as they should have been were they more like the twenty-first century.For instance, the London nightclub Jimmy (Rockwell) goes to meet Ann (O'Connor) is playing ersatz swing music, far too booming to be real swing, and is sung by a singer with WAY too much decolletage for the period, but it works. They throw in just enough of the real thirties to make you buy the weird hairdos and clothes and far-outrageous Decco sets.The trick is not to take any of it seriously. It's a feast for the eyes. Sit back and enjoy it--at least the story is mostly straight.The worst result in this bastardized mix certain moral attitudes. The best of Wodehouse was free of post-Freudian angst. Even couples seeking engagement were not driven by sexual hankerings. Therefore, it is shocking when sexual activity is implied (which it is early on, but not so much later on). This is a liberty with the text I personally disliked, but is less unseemly with this bizarre 1930s/2000s blend.MAJOR SPOILER: As some reviewers have pointed out, the actual butchery of Wodehouse is a single change in the plot. And it's not a small alteration. Jimmy (Rockwell) was "Piccadilly Jim" who wrote little pieces for the paper. As in Wodehouse, Jimmy is now sacked and someone else is writing the "Piccadilly Jim" column. In the book, Jimmy wrote a bad review of a younger Ann's self-published book of romantic verse (in squishy leather). Any Wodehouse fan can tell you the attitude toward verse published in squishy leather. In the book, Jimmy wrote the review. In the movie, his successor is the real culprit, writing under the "Piccadilly Jim" brand name. But if Jimmy tells Ann who he's not just pretending to be Jimmy but he actually is Jimmy, she is less likely to marry him and more likely to kill him.And that's not the very worst. This is: Whoever wrote the review, Jimmy or his successor, the book and movie handle the situation in diametrically opposite ways. Wodehouse can be awfully, and hilariously, callous in his treatment of children and minor poets. But the movie treats the issue in more of a touchy-feely twenty-first century way that removes its fangs. Shame.Nevertheless, Jimmy's discovery of "his" reviews is very funny. And the movie's treatment of Ann is beautiful. Because of that review, Ann abandoned poetry and started writing crime novels noted for their violence. All written, no doubt, with "Piccadilly Jim" in mind. Though this treatment of Ann is hardly canonical, it's a lovely touch, and I like this neurotic and dangerous, hard-drinking, crime-writing Ann a whole lot better than Wodehouse's heroine of a century ago.Overall, it's a very good adaptation, only occasionally skating around Wodehouse's tightly-wound plot. It hardly presents any sort of real living conditions of the period, but ... frankly, neither did Wodehouse himself. If you can stomach the weird sets and styles, you're in for a lot of laughs. Unlike a lot of Wodehouse adaptations (for instance, I was never sold on Stephen Fry's Jeeves), this one is fast moving and FUNNY. And what is generally overlooked is that, like Wodehouse at his best, it's joyful.

Yeesh! If you're expecting anything up to the standards of the "Jeeves and Wooster" production standards, you're in for a real let down! Tom Wilkinson was great, he always is, so it is too bad that he did not have a bigger part, but otherwise the acting was unremarkable. I've just never been much impressed by Sam Rockwell. Maybe that's just me.Too much of this movie looked as though nobody was paying attention to what they were doing. The bloopers, apparently, were just ignored in post-production. The anachronisms were so glaring that they were a constant distraction. It was supposed to be 1930! The typewriters conspicuously dated from the 1950s up to the 1970s. And what was a Dodge Prowler, a limited production "hot rod" built between 1997 and 2002, doing in this film? I was waiting for someone to pull out a cellphone.If there's NOTHING else on, watch it. I doubt that many will want to watch it again.

There are not many actors whose appearance in a movie is reason enough for me to watch. Sam Rockwell is one of them. His unique charm was perfectly suited to the quirky indie movies he's played in. It was inevitable that his shot at big time Hollywood would come. First George Clooney insisted on him for "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind" and then he co-starred with Nicholas Cage in "Matchstick Men". For a brief moment I feared we would loose Sam. But no, his next career choice was to be "Piccadilly Jim". If you've not heard of it, not to worry, it went most deservedly on the straight-to-video route.The thing is – the industry simply has little faith in Sam Rockwell. Just look at the Video and DVD art work of his movies. In "Lawn Dogs" (his finest film) – he's barely off the screen, and yet the art work is dominated by Angie Harmon who barely has a minute of screen time. One can forgive "Confession of a Dangerous Mind" for such treatment when co-stars include Clooney and Julia Roberts – but Angie Harmon ?! The art work of "Piccadilly Jim" is equally unfair. Rockwell has the title role and yet who should dominate the art work but Alison Janey, in a very minor part. What makes Sam Rockwell such an appealing actor is the inability to pigeon hole him. But it would seem that the powers that be in the industry hold that against him."Piccadilly Jim" is a hugely misguided effort which backfires in all departments. Even the likes of Brenda Blethyn and Alison Janey fall short, while Frances O'Connor is completely out of her depth. Only Sam Rockwell, miscast as he might be, is, as always, terrific. Steer clear of this one on all accounts. Search out Rockwell's earlier works and here's hoping he'll be more fortunate with future projects.

Following scriptwriter Julian Fellowes's Academy Award for Gosford Park (2001), and its commercial success with a recreation of 1930s Britain, he was able to initiate the third film version of Piccadilly Jim. In itself, this was no small achievement, for the last P.G. Wodehouse movie on the English big screen had been The Girl on the Boat forty years before.The Piccadilly Jim that finally emerged from Fellowes's screenplay was an interpretation deeply at odds with Wodehouse humor, the result of the selection of a director, John McKay, who was mismatched with the story. Unlike Robert Altman's direction of Gosford Park, McKay found the concept of a period setting distracting and labored to undercut it in every way. McKay sought to avoid the world of Wodehouse television adaptations and their country-house weekends. In its stead, McKay asserts an equivalence between the 1930s, the 1960s, and the world of 2004, as all one and the same.McKay noted, "I think P.G. Wodehouse inhabits a parallel universe to the period he is writing about, so we should find a parallel universe to suit this Piccadilly Jim. We thus decided we would make up our own 'thirties'...." Every bit of decor looks less like the ostensible 1930s setting than one of the decade's science fiction visions of the world as it would shortly become. The designs attempt to evoke the satires of the sterile stylization of modernism in films by Jacques Tati or Stanley Kubrick. However, McKay has no real vision of his own; instead Piccadilly Jim is chock-a-block modern with anachronisms and absurd inventions. McKay's defiantly iconoclastic visuals are incongruous, their lack of internal coherence constantly preventing viewers from immersing themselves in the world of the story. Equally at odds with any narrative unity is the singing of modern songs and the presence of 21st century retro automobiles.Costumes and make up are particularly outlandish, especially unbelievable coiffures that spike, thrust, or droop to one side. The romantic leads vary scene by scene from Jim in an enormous fur coat and scarf, to Ann in modern boots, to Jim and Ann in contemporary nightclub dress with resonances to 1970s disco.In attempting to modernize Wodehouse, McKay lacks any conception of what has made the author successful. The opening sequence provides a sharp comparison of the divergent approach between the film versions of Piccadilly Jim in 1936 and 2004. In the former, Bayliss wakens Jim from a late night to discover he is asleep with his feet on the pillow where his head ought to be. Such a tasteful indicator of insouciance from the 1930s is beyond the sensibility of 2004; in this version Bayliss finds Jim in bed with three scantily clad floozies. Nothing could have been farther from the harmless spirit of Wodehouse, even when he portrays marital mores and infidelity in such theatrical adaptations as Candle-Light.The Piccadilly Jim of 2004 is a true wastrel, a womanizer, brawler, and drunkard who is deeply unsympathetic. Robert Montgomery, the Piccadilly Jim of 1936, might have played such a character in a likable manner, but instead of the classical Hollywood stars who could so perfectly embody Wodehouse characters, 2004 offers the modern Sam Rockwell. His performance lacks charm or charisma; he plays the role as standard issue "bad boy." Of course, according to contemporary romantic formula, this must be the secret wish of Ann, whose characterization is altered substantially. Instead of Nesta writing thrillers, as in the novel, it is Ann who composes them, incorporating criminal brutality that reflects her own volatile, slightly disturbed nature. Jim compares her speech to that of Sam Spade, and her devotion to murder is portrayed as the direct result of Jim's scathing review of the book of her poetry. Yet her first impression upon meeting Jim (she does not know his true identity until the end) is that he is too much of a "Mr. Nice Guy," lacking the dangerous edge for which she yearns. Frances O'Connor plays much of the role in varying tones of hysteria, and frequent, rather obvious dubbing reveal an actress having understandable difficulty with her role.The greatest error is in eliminating the sincerity of the remorse Jim must feel. In the novel, love changes him, and only later does Jim realize why Ann hates the man she never met: he penned a vicious review of her book of poetry. This theme was retained, according to surviving plot synopses, in the original, now-lost faithful 1919 movie of Piccadilly Jim, with Owen Moore in the title role. The 1936 film of Piccadilly Jim had Jim pen cartoon parodies of the Pett family in retribution for their condescending treatment of his father, before Jim knew Ann was their relative. The 2004 version makes an alteration that ruins the credibility of Jim's transformation. The columns under the byline "Piccadilly Jim" were penned by a ghost writer, meaning that Jim never did actually wrong Ann. To compensate, he need do no more than punch the real writer in the nose. Without the need for contrition, Rockwell etches a Jim incapable of remorse, rendering the central conflict meaningless. All that remains is a playboy who has found an equally wild girl.If a 21st century movie adaptation of Wodehouse requires actors like Rockwell who need to be introduced in bed with three women, there is indeed little place for Wodehouse in theatrical feature films. 1930s behavior is not the same as the present, and having Ann arrange for assignations with Jim, or making him give a goodbye kiss to Bayliss, masquerading as his father, only seem crass. Perhaps it is best for Wodehouse to remain on television, where he need only appeal to narrower, more literary audiences, comfortable with the flavor of another, more distant era.