Made in the city by first time writer/ director Andy Humphries, film distributors refused to let the media see the movie ... but icBirmingham managed to get a sneak look and discovered why they were so protective ... Wobbly comedian Johnny Vegas is out to sell spuds and sow his oats in the Brum set big-screen comedy Sex Lives of the Potato Men (18).
Chucked out by his wife, Vegas is forced to crash at the slum-flat of mate Dominic Coleman, a divorced and desperate slob with a fetish for premium rate phone lines and sarnies filled with strawberry jam and fish paste (don't ask). Meanwhile, Vegas' work pal, The Office's Mackenzie Crook - also dumped by his wife - is forced to endure depraved sexual acts with his demanding 50-plus mother-in-law in return for free board. Things aren't much better for Potato Men boss Mark Gatiss (League of Gentlemen), obsessing over his ex' Lucy Davis (also from The Office), he's planning revenge by hacking her dog to pieces. Everyone is 'at it' - three-in-a-bed, fish'n'chip shop romping, grabbing grannies, making hay in a stables... Brummie writer/ director Andy Humphries' debut movie owes much to the bedroom farces and cheeky sex-comedies of the 1970s (think Robin Askwith, Confessions of a Delivery Boy), but while they mixed saucy seaside postcard crudity and nudity with a wafer thin love story, Sex Lives of the Potato Men manages to avoid both a solid plot and any bare flesh! Yup - those expecting to see anything more than nobbly knees and a couple of heaving cleavages will be disappointed as the 18 certificate seems to have been dished out more because of the language that any visible sexual content. Partly shot in the city, there are few recognisable local landmarks, although the eagle-eyed will spot the Old Contemptibles pub by Snow Hill station and several familiar roads in south B'ham, while hardcore stand-up comedy fans might recognise former Brummie school teacher Lawrence Inman. Vegas is, well, Vegas: fat ... boozy ... crude ... while Mackenzie, after his brush with Hollywood on Pirates of the Caribbean, delivers a decent performance as the skinny side-kick. The gags are very much in the gross-out vein, and while most miss the mark, the film - aimed squarely at the post-pub market - does deliver the odd chuckle. If Vegas brandishing two melons and Mackenzie a phallic carrot are your idea of a laugh, down a few beers, and hand over your cash - otherwise, avoid ... Still, at least it's better than the last Birmingham set comedy - Large - but only just ... | 
