Oh Sex Lives of the Potato Men, what foul demon created thee? This is a film that you watch, smirk a little during the runtime and then when you mention it to others having seen it, you just cannot help but smile as you talk. But it's not that Sex Lives of the Potato Men is actually a funny film and one that inspires you to smile when talking or thinking about it, it's just that the film is so bizarre; is so insulting and is no shameless in its attempt to get across a meek laugh to do with sex and sex lives in general that you just cannot help but have your mouth break out into a grin. Do bear in mind that what follows the smirk is a sinking of the head; a consequent shake of the head and a raise of the index finger and thumb to both eyebrows as you gently rub them in an attempt to reminisce about your time watching this trash.<br /><br />But that's what the film is, it's trash; it's very brave and shameless trash but trash none-the-less. Whoever came up with this idea, put it to paper and then spread it around the industry trying to get it made must either be very brave or very desperate. It's strange to have a film that is most definitely 'about' something but one that does not have, under any sort of circumstance, a decisive narrative. This follows on from that idea that most of European cinema is artistic and its stories are ambiguous and open-ended and themes take precedence over most other things. In Sex Lives of the Potato Men, the same situation and technically the same joke are replayed over and over again and that is an ideation that consists of: 'sex is a very, very funny thing.' These ideas are perhaps more suited to an American film so it's no wonder that after a while watching this film, things start to feel a little out of sorts.<br /><br />The film begins and ends in the same manner, creating a feeling of a circular journey; a circular journey that has gone absolutely nowhere and absolutely nothing has been achieved. Three blokes sit around a table talking and what-not. Their boss joins them and the conversation is limited to whatever crude and disgusting stories, situations or scenarios each can possibly think of. The odd thing here, being that whenever one man says something nasty, the other grimaces but has an equally filthy story to give in return creating a contradiction in what these men find to cross the line and what they do not. The men are Dave (Vegas) and Ferris (Crook), two people joined by Tolly (Coleman) whenever the film sees fit to throw in a third face to crack some more nasty sex jokes or break some peculiar stories. They are employed by Jeremy (Gattis), a man who has deeper issues and problems but issues of which the film is more concerned with exploiting for the sake of humour rather than study.<br /><br />So what's the situation in Sex Lives of the Potato Men? The three to four men are in a crisis and for the duration of the film, we will adopt the role of the hapless fly on the wall as we witness what foul play these people get up to over the period of about a week. If the humour revolving around Dave and Ferris is disgusting and repulsive, then for Jeremy things are just spooky. It all begins rather innocently and it appears there is a female he likes and one who equally likes him in return but when the essence that Jeremy is merely a stalker creeps in, that's when the jaws drop. The character of Jeremy is used and put across in a way that makes unrequited love and stalking in general merely look 'funny'. Jeremy sits in his apartment listening to classical music and writing out letters of abuse to Ruth (Davis), echoing some sort of psychotic persona more associated with Hannibal Lecter writing his letter's to Clarice in 2001's Hannibal. But whatever sympathy we might have for him at this point is rendered absolutely false when, later on, it is revealed the true origin of their relationship. Suddenly, we as an audience feel cheated into feeling a mite sorry for him earlier on and for whatever reason he did do what he did in the first place just seems cowardly and distasteful. To say what it was would ruin whatever few surprises lurk within the film.<br /><br />Quite sad how, in one of Jeremy's letters, he writes about something-or-other exclaiming it to have "No artistic vision  just one big mess". I hate it when words said by the characters echo the film they're in. Sex Lives of the Potato Men does not explore someone's psyche or particular interest in a fetish or why they feel the need to go around having as much sex as possible, it just uses them as a front to pile on ridiculously unfunny jokes and situations. Rather than take group sex and explore what drives a person to seek it down, it makes a daft joke out of it (tickets with numbers on!?); rather than get into the mindset of a fan of Sadomasochism, the film has someone hang from a basement ceiling and warn everyone of 'incoming salt and vinegar' as he climaxes. Ferris covers his face in disgust and the camera fades to the next scene without too much of a fuss. It's a relief the film got to no audiences abroad. This is one section of British culture, indeed of the British mentality that I pray will be confined to our shores and ignored accordingly.