Running between 2004 and 2007, The Catherine Tate Show was a sketch comedy where the titular comedian played a variety of different characters. One of the most popular was Joanie Taylor, a foul-mouthed Nan known for acting sweet to people’s faces before criticizing them behind their back, as experienced by her long-suffering grandson Jamie (Matthew Horne). Barring a few specials, Tate appeared to retire the character while moving onto other projects including starring roles in Doctor Who and the American version of The Office.
It was a considerable surprise when news broke that, over a decade since the show ended, Nan would return in a feature-film brought alive by Mary Queen of Scots director Josie Rourke and Ted Lasso writer Brett Goldstein. Any promise offered by this hiring were dashed by the end-result, which tellingly has no director credited.
What’s left resembles a mid-2000s relic in the worst possible ways, as evidenced by the gags sandwiching this film. Things start as they intend to go on when Nan buys a large Robert Mugabe statue which she believes resembles Trevor McDonald, and close by using transphobia to make Nan feel better about her life. In the middle are strangely serious WWII-era flashbacks, a road-trip involving a vengeful traffic warden, and Nan forcibly committing terrorism. This jarring concoction makes the emotional moments difficult to take seriously, as they're paired alongside Nan acting horrendous to most people.
Credit where it’s due, the cast jump right into the roles regardless of how much substance the material offers them. Although they can’t help the most baffling inclusion, as scenes become randomly animated in an ugly style resembling the cheap offspring of Angela Anaconda and the 2000s Crusha adverts. These make the film feel unfinished, held together courtesy of pocket change and staples. It’s astounding this received such a wide release, as it’s one of the most unpleasant experiences cinema has offered in quite a while. In a world where independent films fail to receive deserved attention, it’s astounding this got a wide release.
It was a considerable surprise when news broke that, over a decade since the show ended, Nan would return in a feature-film brought alive by Mary Queen of Scots director Josie Rourke and Ted Lasso writer Brett Goldstein. Any promise offered by this hiring were dashed by the end-result, which tellingly has no director credited.
What’s left resembles a mid-2000s relic in the worst possible ways, as evidenced by the gags sandwiching this film. Things start as they intend to go on when Nan buys a large Robert Mugabe statue which she believes resembles Trevor McDonald, and close by using transphobia to make Nan feel better about her life. In the middle are strangely serious WWII-era flashbacks, a road-trip involving a vengeful traffic warden, and Nan forcibly committing terrorism. This jarring concoction makes the emotional moments difficult to take seriously, as they're paired alongside Nan acting horrendous to most people.
Credit where it’s due, the cast jump right into the roles regardless of how much substance the material offers them. Although they can’t help the most baffling inclusion, as scenes become randomly animated in an ugly style resembling the cheap offspring of Angela Anaconda and the 2000s Crusha adverts. These make the film feel unfinished, held together courtesy of pocket change and staples. It’s astounding this received such a wide release, as it’s one of the most unpleasant experiences cinema has offered in quite a while. In a world where independent films fail to receive deserved attention, it’s astounding this got a wide release.