In what has to be one of the more stranger/esoteric cast-ensembles, this film never really finds itself. Is it a dark dromedy', a spoof on the art world, is the film deliberately pretentious and self aware to mirror the self-importance of the modern art world, or just poking fun at the clueless rich? I can't figure it out, thats the directors fault. Gillian Anderson, one of Hollyweird's hottest lesbians, who only seems to only get prettier as she ages, as the lead, sucks the life out of every scene, poor lassie can't act. She needs to stick to pensive brooding and muted soft-spoken pouting, with the posed slow-motion blinking. Otherwise the cast is very talented, all with discrete character development: none of them very redeeming or likable. Most unusual, is the setting which takes place in London, yet feels like its in lower Manhattan, half of the cast is American; I thought Madonna was the only wealthy American to transplant despite the indigenous draconian tax-rate. Most everyone is a self-assumed art critic or "genius" and nearly all of them are perverted in one way or another. Again, see it for the babes, especially the Amanda Seyfried up-skirt scenes.

Dealer Art Spindle (Danny Huston) is trying to talk the Rhinegolds (Christopher Lee, Joanna Lumley) into selling an art piece. Beth Freemantle (Heather Graham) is his assistant. Robert Freign (Simon McBurney) is the couple's butler. Couple Bob (Stellan Skarsgård) and Jean Maclestone (Gillian Anderson) are Art's competitors. Bob is sleeping with Beth. Jean wants artist Jo Richards (Jack Huston) who wants Art's new assistant Paige Oppenheimer (Amanda Seyfried). Elaine (Jaime Winstone) and Joany (Meredith Ostrom) are a lesbian couple and Dewey Dalamanatousis (Alan Cumming) is their manager.The world of London high art is probably great for satire. It's a lot of characters doing selfish things for themselves. None of them are that compelling. It's hard to root for anybody. I don't care about any of them. Also it's not funny. That would have really helped. Danny Huston is probably the most compelling character for me.

A comment on the pretentious and wealthy but ruthless world of art and art dealers, where it is difficult to tell if it is taking itself seriously or not. The plot is not just one paper-thin story, but in fact seems to be several strands that randomly inter-connect with each other, all loosely revolving around the painting from which the film gets its name. Numerous characters seem to want to purchase the painting, while the owner refuses to sell, even to ward off financial ruin, as he clings to his 'most prized possession'. What follows is the ensemble bickering over numerous pieces of art in several plot lines, but the attempt at a multi-character multi-strand plot a la Magnolia only comes across as a pale imitation - or art merely imitating life!The characters all have different roles in the high-end art world of London, with dealers, artists and gallery owners all vying with each other, backstabbing each other - and sleeping with each other -to demonstrate their various arty credentials. Unfortunately, with nearly all of them having more money than they know what to do with other than spend it on the latest ridiculously over-priced 'masterpiece', very few of them appear to have any redeeming features, leaving barely a single character for the audience to actually like.Quite the ensemble cast lends the piece considerable artistic weight - including Gillian Anderson, Stellan Skarsgard, Heather Graham, Joanna Lumley, Danny Huston, Alan Cumming, Charlotte Rampling and the venerable Christopher Lee, who all serve to highlight the film's seemingly lofty art house ambitions. Most of the cast do their jobs adequately but without really standing out from the cluttered cast list, although Danny Huston's attempt at scenery-chewing and film-stealing is little more than grating, with the pseudo-evil chuckles and 'god-damn its!' only missing a scene chewing on a stogie and bacon sandwich to make his performance any more hammy.The plot (such as it is) manages to be both dully pretentious and simultaneously ludicrous; even the title itself adds to the film's uncertain nature - is it a serious comment or a satire? It's rather difficult to tell, and with very little in the way of narrative thrust, the film just meanders seemingly aimlessly along. The numerous plot strands are occasionally difficult to keep track of, It's a good job most of the cast are quite pretty - better works of art than the paintings and statues that they squabble over.Overall, rather a load of pretentious, self-important twaddle.

Featuring a de-fanged Christopher Lee (in one of his final roles) as a stubborn but dying owner of a Mondrian painting worth up to $30 million, and Mulder-less Gillian Anderson (whose files here are more likely to be triple than single "X"), along with the passing of the roller skates from infamous BOOGIE NIGHTS "roller girl" Heather Graham to on-screen skating newbie Amanda Seyfried, director Duncan Ward's ensemble flick BOOGIE WOOGIE has features bound to intrigue nearly everyone. Modern art credits for movie usage include Jake & Dinos Chapman, Gary Hume, Constantin Brancusi, Banksy, Gavin Turk, Danny Moynihan, Jessica Craig Martin, Faile, Sarah Lucas, Michael Landy, Robert Gordon McHaig III, Sam Taylor-Wood, and Jim Lambie--all curated by Damien Hirst. Worth the price of admission is the verbal deconstruction of a divorcing couple's collection, including pieces by Picasso, Smith, Kelly, Judd, Flavin, Brancusi, Warhol, Beuys, Hockney, Magritte, Struth, Giacometti, Lucas, Katz, Mapplethorpe, Bacon, Emin, Currin, Landy, Hirst, Rusche, Barney, Dogan, and "the Jew in the library," accomplished through inter-cut parallel scenes between the wife and her thrice-divorced confidante, counterpointed by the conversation between the husband and his divorce lawyer. Plus there's nude chicks.