Juliet, Naked

The latest film based on a Nick Hornby novel bears some resemblance to one of his most successful, “High Fidelity” – being a film set in the world of music fanatics and those who love (or don’t love but have put up with) them. But this one’s a little sharper – telling the story of a fanatic vlogger, Duncan, whose website devoted to the one-album-and-disappeared-twenty-years-ago star Tucker Crowe consumes vast amounts of his life, to the chagrin of his partner, Annie. But when a raw recording of the original sessions of his album becomes available, Annie is the first to listen to it, and her reaction causes fractures both with Duncan and, surprisingly, with Crowe, whose reclusive life recovering from the disasters his rock star life left behind gets challenged when he gets in contact with Annie to agree with her dismissive review of his old work. This has a much less gentle view of male self-indulgence than “High Fidelity” did – it recognises the self-regard, obstinacy and entitlement that can live within fan culture far more clearly and mocks it far more readily. The film version is perfectly cast in the three lead roles – Chris O’Dowd’s belligerent nerd, Rose Byrne’s exhausted girlfriend and Ethan Hawke (being a relic of the 90s himself) channelling a little of what worked in the later scenes of  Boyhood as the guy who is resigned to the consequences of the life he picked up when he was too young to know better. It’s maybe a little meandering, but it’s charming and funny and gently wise with a biting final line that ensures you leave the film grinning.