Movie review: 'Spud 3: Learning to Fly'

What could have been a class act is let down by a slap script, writes Sue de Groot

Have you heard the one about the blonde who wanted to be a movie star? She slept with the writer. Cue evil laughter.

That is one of the oldest jokes in Hollywood. It may be blondist, but when it comes to writers it remains as tragic, ironic and true as it was when first told. Look at the position of Oscar-winning writers on the Academy Awards website and you will see how undervalued they are. Some people think actors make up the words and plot as they go. They don't. Without screenwriters there would be no movies.

Spud 3: Learning to Fly is what happens when careful attention (ie time and money) is paid to everything except the script. It should be a good film. It is tightly edited, well paced, beautifully lit and framed. There are some fine performances by talented young actors, and John Cleese is in it. But it is about as moving as mashed potato and as funny as mud. Watching someone slip on a banana peel would be more edifying.

Director John Barker, who earned his place in the canopy of comedy by producing and directing 2002's Blu Cheez (South Africa's first mockumentary), cannot take all the blame. John van de Ruit, who wrote the series of novels on which the Spud films are based, is allegedly responsible for the script. Perhaps he should stick to books.

In this sequel, Spud is heartbroken after being rejected by the sleepy-voiced object of his desire, also known as The Mermaid, but pubescent longing takes a back seat when his problems become more pressing - his parents are splitting up, his father is broke and he is in danger of losing his scholarship and being kicked out of school.

He makes a list of outlandish things he might do to earn credit, which include becoming a star cricketer, acting in the school play and being elected a prefect. One by one, he crosses out most of these ambitions and sinks into ever-deeper melancholy, exacerbated by the crumbling of bonds between members of the Crazy Eight gang, whose loyalties are being tested by a malicious prefect.

Comfort comes in the form of treacly fireside chats with the Guv (John Cleese). Although Cleese isn't given much to work with, he is always a joy to watch, and the sub-plot involving his romantic fling provides the film's funniest lines.

There is a jarring contrast between the Guv and the ghastly caricatures in Spud's family. This is no doubt intended to make us comprehend the chasm between Spud's school and home lives, but the point is driven painfully in with a meat mallet, followed by a few knocks with an ice pick just to make sure we get it. Scenes involving mom, dad, gran and domestic worker are like a bad rehearsal for The Villagers, with a lot of shouting, exaggerated accents and lame sitcom solutions.

This does serve the purpose of making us root for Spud in his attempts to remain at school, even if the most daring deed he can think of is to tamper with a stage smoke machine. It could almost be Hogwarts - without the magic.

Like the curate's egg, this film is good in parts. It is not entirely devoid of sympathy and there are some reasons to see it. For one, the boys are superb. Troye Sivan, who plays Spud, is growing in charisma and confidence and is likely to become an adult actor of some stature. New boy Garlic is played with charming ingenuity by Caspar Lee, who has the acting muscle to move beyond YouTube and become a big-screen sensation. And as supercilious prefect Norman Whiteside, Luke Tyler perfects a sneer Draco Malfoy might envy.

Combined with strong performances from the supporting youngsters, this is what one might call a showcase of emerging talent. It's a pity the cast is starved of lines that might elicit belly laughs or moments of real poignancy.

Rating: 2/5

Follow Sue de Groot on Twitter: @deGrootS1