You know when you're on the bus and someone decides to tell you their life-story, and you sit there with a pathetic smile on your face when all you really want to do is slap the fool and walk off? Well I had a similar sensation while watching this film. Okay, I did actually choose to go and see Aprile, and I knew about Nanni Moretti's taste for making himself the one and only star from Caro Diario, but after about half an hour of this latest installment from his memoirs I wanted to give Moretti the madre of all slaps. Caro Diario was funny, unusual, and at least a couple of other characters managed to get a word in edgeways. In Aprile, however, Moretti has exclusive rights to the dialogue, so that all you hear for an hour and a half is a high-pitched whine going on about how his politics are best, or what quirky piece of popular culture is tickling his fancy at the moment. He also finds time to slag off films that he doesn't like, something I thought was reserved for losers like me. Surely being in a position like his you'd think he'd try and make a point about cinema a little more intelligently than this. By making a proper film perhaps, one with some ideas and a decent structure, or maybe one that isn't completely dominated by his annoying voice. And when he started fawning over his newborn baby, I just wanted to go and be in the company of someone normal, preferably not a self-obsessed film director with a strange penchant for tacky music. The next time someone you don't know tries to tell you their life-story, give them a slap from me. Every blow will be a small victory in the fight against Morettiism.