Judging by the packed crowd for Richard Ayoade’s directorial debut Submarine, I don’t really need to write a review. As I left the cinema about fifty people were lined up on Russell Street, switching on their phones. Everyone of the people I passed was saying ‘Yeah, just got out of Submarine, it was great!’ Needless to say, if someone suggests you see Submarine and you’re concerned it won’t live up to the hype so you jump online and read a review: stop being a chump and go see the damn movie.
Oliver Tate is a precocious fifteen year old with a self-obsession to rival Narcissus. His social ineptitude is not total however, given his ability to achieve certain primary goals for young teenage boys in the arse-end of Wales: getting a girlfriend, and convincing her to have sex with him. He is sort of like (Peep Show‘s) Mark Corrigan as a teen, but thanks to Ayoade’s skillful direction, it doesn’t come off as Old Hat when Oliver starts doing very carefully thought-out but incredibly stupid things in the name of familial harmony.
Richard Ayoade doesn’t just do a great job with cartoonish nerds. His writing gloriously portrays all the stilted freaks, his understanding of awkward people is total. Character humour is sadly lacking in so much gross physical comedy these days, and Submarine manages to skirt the line and have both: Paddy Considine’s be-mulleted psychic ninja being a standout example.
But don’t take my word for it: take everyone else’s.
by Lizzie Lamb (www.thechopbuster.com)