Starring Julian Barratt, Essie Davis, Simon Farnaby, Andrea Riseborough, Russell Tovey, Harriet Walter, Russell Tovey, Jessican Barden and Richard McCabe

Written by Julian Barratt and Simon Farnaby

Directed by Sean Foley

Bruce Mindhorn is a human lie detector. A Special Forces Operator captured by the Russians, Mindhorn was the subject of illegal experimentation that replaced his eye with an optical lie detector. He can literally see the truth. Escaping, he returned to the Isle of Man where he became a consulting detective. No, the consulting detective. Nothing escapes Mindhorn

Richard Thorncroft is a human disaster. The actor who played Mindhorn, he had it all; the love of his co-star, a successful TV show, the promise of Hollywood. He replaced all that with the high life, a bald spot the width of his head and a growing sense of desperation. Everything escapes Richard Thorncroft. Especially success.

Until the Manx Police contact his agent. A serial killer is loose on the island and will only speak to Mindhorn…

Directed by Sean Foley and with a script by Barratt and co-star Simon Farnaby, this is what British modern comedy royalty looks like. Like the Alan Partridge canon this follows a massively self involved micro celebrity and his interactions with a resolutely unglamorous location. Like The Mighty Boosh there’s a welcome dash of the odd.

Unlike both of them, Mindhorn is in many ways a surprisingly nuanced discussion and dissection of bad British cult TV. Not in the sort of way that inspires Guardian think pieces but rather by looking at what it does and the trail it leaves. Russell Tovey’s character, a deeply disturbed fan whose psyche is held together by the show is one end of that spectrum. Thorncroft, whose life is defined and contained by Mindhorn and desperately wants that to not be the case is at the other. In the middle is an uneven film that lets its female characters down badly but does everything else very well.

The bad news first. Jessica Barden, Andrea Riseborough and Essie Davis all do great work with combined perhaps 40 minutes of screen time tops. Davis is fantastic as Patricia, Thorncroft’s old flame and the only actual adult in the movie. She brings a wry, grounded compassion to her scenes along with a wicked sense of humour and deserves much more than she gets here. Riseborough is, well, she’s always great. She’s Andrea Riseborough. But here she’s both a note perfect version of the dutiful copper as DC Baines and something both far more surprising and fun. Barden, as Patricia’s daughter, has a weight and calm to her performance that grounds the capering adults brilliantly.

All three of them impress. All three of them are repeatedly moved aside in favour of Barratt, Tovey and Farnaby. With Barratt at least it’s understandable. This is a towering comic performance which combines his trademark super earnest delivery and deadpan timing with moments of real pathos. Richard Thorncroft has screwed up so so badly and he’s desperate to not look that in the eyes. When he does the film takes a dark, surprisingly effective and endearingly rubbish turn. He makes his peace with the role, and in doing so with himself and Barratt lands everything that’s asked of him superbly well.

Tovey fares less well as his erstwhile opponent and sidekick. He’s usually called on to do little more than make Kestrel noises but has a couple of genuinely great scenes. There’s one in particular where he perfectly articulates the touchingly naïve fan belief that everything about their favourite show will both come true and save them. This is a perfect moment for the film to point and laugh. Instead it takes the braver route and gives Tovey a moment of surprising genuineness and poignancy.

Farnaby, as Clive Parnevik, is served least effectively by the script. Clive is Richard’s old stunt double and Patricia’s new husband. His amiable, near stream of consciousness bragging about that and how bad Richard looks is funny twice. By the second fat joke it’s wearing thin. By a desperately ill advised double twisted innuendo involving Richard’s old car you just want him to get off the screen. He does, and Farnaby is often fun, but he’s done himself no favours with much of the role.

That uneven knot of characters, along with a welcome cameo from Steve Coogan as Thorncroft’s hyper successful former co-star, bite and scratch and claw at one another against the backdrop of the isle of Man. As a former resident, it was tremendous fun seeing Ramsey, some of Douglas pier (I think) and a guest appearance from the island’s cliffs on screen. However, even if you didn’t grow up there (And if you did, hi!)

For non-residents, the island functions as a geographical joke. Coupled with Thorncroft’s murderous hatred of John Nettles, it sets the movie up as the anti-Bergerac. There’s the same elaborate schemes, the same damp, rain-soaked pseudo glamour and the same hyper earnest lead. It’s both a jab at the god of ‘80s British TV Detectives and a Mindhorn-esque two fingered salute. One that, on occasion, is the less polite of a two fingered salute. 7/10

Alasdair Stuart