Movie Review: Good Luck to You, Leo Grande

This is a delightfully funny movie - albeit riddled with implausibilities. It is tender in all the right places, silly where it needs to be, and ruthless in its exploration into the characters' psyches.

Leo Grande is the male equivalent of the Manic-Dream-Pixie-Girl trope. But that's exactly what his character is paid to be. He isn't merely a one-dimensional sex-object - the client needs more than that. So he performs the role of "perfect man". Even when she is probing him to make sure he hasn't been forced into prostitution, he gives the answers which she wants in order to satisfy her set of ethics.

Without giving away too much - there is a little bit of slightly forced drama. It provides a nice counterbalance to the fantasy world we see constructed. And it is a fantasy. Everything happens neatly and without much surprise. But, hey, that's what we watch movies for - right? This isn't a documentary - but it does explore something which is likely to resonate with lots of viewers.

SPOILERS!

Perhaps the most important part of this movie is that the anorgasmia isn't "cured" by the big-swinging-dick of some hyper-masculine love-god. He guides her along the path to self-acceptance as a sexual being - but it is *her* actions and *her* fingers which complete the journey.

Similarly, she is *very* demanding. Despite her reticence, she is quite clearly in charge during the entire film. This is a film about a woman who - eventually - knows exactly what she wants and how she wants it.

It's tempting to imagine a gender-flipped version of this movie. Cast, say, Toby Jones as the sad-act and pair him up with some smart-talking bimbo or himbo. Would it still get rave reviews? What are the social power imbalances which move something from charming to predatory?

What are the power imbalances in this movie? Emma Thompson is an undoubtedly huge name in movies. Is it manipulative of her to promise stardom to a naïve young Black man wanting to get ahead in the industry?

In the wrong hands, this would have been a slapstick car-crash. I can already imagine the big-budget American remake with Hollywood glamour, wobbly-arse jokes, a pointless car-chase, and extensive product placement for Trojan condoms. I am so pleased that Sophie Hyde has created an intimate, subtle, and - dare I say it? - cosy experience.

I don't know whether the script started life as a play. It feels a bit like "Same Time Next Year" - which features a couple in a single hotel room over a period of time. If it transferred to the West End I have no doubt it would be a sensation there as well.

This is a laugh out loud comedy, with an astonishingly tender heart.