If you haven't seen Sofia Coppola's movie about the life of Marie Antoinette, don't. It is two hours of unadulterated directorial ego masturbation. I think Sofia was lent a copy of the excellent, tongue in cheek Plunkett and Macleane and thought she'd do a big budget chick flick version. Which might have worked, but she hasn't the talent. Self indulgent hints to her own over-inflated self opinion include a pair of basketball shoes in shot with the rest of Marie Antoinette's footwear. Every segway is an excuse to spin up another 80s rock or pop anthem. Sorry but it doesn't work, the only people that will like this rubbish are girls and homosexuals, and then most probably only for the costume and set design.

Laura is watching the end of the movie as I write this blog. I am now going to commit my words to the ether and settle down with the historically far more accurate Talladega Nights, The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.