Not so cock and bull

When adapting literature, a director is faced with the classic dilemma of whether to make a good but inauthentic film or to remain faithful to the source. Michael Winterbottom takes a new route entirely.

Winterbottom translates the themes of Laurence Sterne's 1759 "The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy" into a story about a modern film crew adapting the same novel. By taking some liberties, Winterbottom's version is remarkably true to the rollicking, freewheeling spirit of the original novel.

As comedian Steve Coogan, who plays both the title character and himself, pontificates during an interview, the book was "postmodern before there was anything modern to be post about." English nobleman Tristram Shandy sits down to write his memoirs — starting from birth — but lapses so frequently into memories, anecdotes, and tangents that his central story is completely buried. And that's the point. Out of Sterne's calculated chaos emerges the message that reality is far too vast and complex for art to properly depict.

This theme shapes Winterbottom's commentary about the impossibility of adapting literature into film. Fittingly, by focusing on the antics of the film's cast and crew, a constant stream of interruptions is woven into "Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bully Story" — just as interruptions plague the literary character.

The setup is rich with comedic possibility. "Tristram Shandy" is not afraid to bring faux-docudrama, Al Pacino impersonations and cow sex together onscreen.

The comedy works best when the joke is on the film itself, as it is often, right from the start. The opening credits are preceded by an argument between Coogan and costar Rob Brydon over whose name should appear first. Later, a disastrous battle scene in which Brydon's character leads "literally tens of men" across a dingy set highlights both the pathetic nature of low-budget filmmaking and the difficulty of getting a modern audience to see a movie about an 18th-century novel.

At the center of Winterbottom's calculated chaos stands Coogan. As himself, Coogan is both a pompous prima donna and bored cynic, complaining about heel heights and flubbing his way through a script meeting with a story idea he has pilfered from a journalist.

Coogan is saved from the audience's abject abhorrence only by the frequent interjections of his real-life girlfriend (Kelly Macdonald) and the presence of their infant child, whom he protects and cherishes to the dismay of a flirty assistant (Naomie Harris) and a sleazy tabloid reporter (Kieran O'Brien). These supporting performances are not only solid in their own right, but believable for a mockumentary.

Steve's character never fully develops as a consequence of the constant digressions and some uninspired storytelling decisions, and he remains inaccessible throughout the film. Still, with the brutally British comic riffing of Coogan and Brydon combined with expert physical comedy in the most unsuspecting places, "Tristram Shandy" remains a delicious treat. It is the rare film that can make you question the ideological origins of cinema while doubling over with laughter.