Although I am not a smoker, I’ll admit it can look cool in the movies. Humphrey Bogart has his fedora/cigarette combo to thank, in some part, for his illustrious career and ladykilling – he wasn’t the best looking chap. However high their theatrical ambitions, this is sadly not the case for either Withnail nor I in Bruce Robinson’s semi-autobiographical and perennially brilliant masterpiece.

As opening soliliquies go, a beefed up, tattooed and incarcerated Jude Law championing the exquisiteness of his male appendage while receiving fellatio from a fellow inmate is unusual. This ill-advised and unfunny speech has the necessary shock factor but misses the darkly comic desires of the film. It sets the tone for much of what is to come; if you’ll excuse the pun.