1 out of 10

Study of the Id by the Odd

After single handedly trying to genocide the galt wasp by sticking pins through the heads of nearly a million of these little, innocent creatures, Dr Kinsey decides to move on to humans and becomes the first major scientific sex researcher "to help people" ...and give himself the excuse he needs to start sticking pins into his own genitals and needles full of barbituates in his arm.

In Hollywood's mindless quest for unsung heros, it is becoming almost insulting to those who really were. Having made his name as Oscar Schindler, the German industrialist who lost it all to save hundreds of Jews from the death camps, Liam Neeson's role of Kinsey is almost insulting, as he wanders about the screen looking like a Dachau inmate who just missed the train to the gas chamber. Whilst FBI boss, Hoover was bumping off Marilyn Monroe, President Jack Kennedy and his brother, Kinsey is forced to suffer the torment of a few months without funding for his sex reseach project and a press that gives him a couple of bad headlines. Is this a man who died for his beliefs? Hardly! With Liam's background in boxing, just like Bob Hope, the whole project closely ressembles a Bing Crosby "on the road" flick without the humour, the singing or the entertainment.

Curiously, if the film is correct, all Kinsey's research was clearly flawed for the whole basis of scientific research is one of objectivity, yet the widespread involvement of his own staff in his homemade "research" pornos and personal involvement runs exactly against this. Likewise, his insistence that no-one should ever be forced to do anything they did not want to lays bare his own hypocracy as he pushes his grieving father into a good grilling about his habit of mastubating as a boy straight after the funeral of his beloved wife. Central to the Kinsey doctrine was that the demands of society were often at odds with one's own natural bodily desires and curiously, I experienced this first hand as I sat in my cinema seat: whilst I knew that I had to stay there to the end of the film so as to be able to complete this review, my body desparately yearned to run out of the theatre and on down the road screaming to escape this meandering tosh as fast as possible. Backed up with a travel montage that could have come out of a Fred Astaire dance flick of the 1930's and the sort of music that usually accompanies silent films, the movie would be funny if it weren't so unwatchably dull and tediously plotless. The 118 minutes of watching some old weirdo in a bow tie thumping on and on about how society doesn't understand how important it is to allow people to sleep with a donkey, interspaced with grainy footage of wrinkly senior citizens doing hardcore pornos feels like someone walking over one's grave.

How a production team could generate such an intensely boring movie out of sex beats me. Maybe in place of director BILLY CONDON, they would have been better using WILLY CONDOM and stopped it before it began.

...And as for an ending, there isn't on, it just stops least one blessing there!

Porno for hardened machocists only

Film Critic: - Robert L Thompsett