It’s all me, me, me

Simon Amstell’s Benjamin is a romantic comedy about a young filmmaker whose second feature is about to première, and he’s nervous. Don’t be, says his producer (Anna Chancellor). ‘Some people,’ she expands comfortingly, ‘will like it and some people won’t be into it, but each and every one of them is going to die, aren’t they? Because we are all going to die.’ Fair point. If you can ever say there is any point. Amstell’s career has always been predicated on his own existential crises, but as I’m one of those who is quite into that, I rather loved this film, not that it matters. Does anything?

Amstell is the stand-up who has written and starred in a sitcom (Grandma’s House, terrific), made the mock-doc Carnage, and has also written a confessional memoir, Help. Here, Colin Morgan plays Benjamin, a fictionalised version of Simon it’s probably safe to assume. I think even if Benjamin were a strongman in the circus, you could safely assume it’s somehow a fictionalised version of Simon, as Simon’s subject is always himself. (I don’t say this critically. You could say the same of Tracey Emin, who is also brilliant.) So Benjamin is insecure, vulnerable, anxious and, of course, lonely. (He has a cat — always a sign.) Much rides on his second feature, No Self — ‘what is “I” supposed to be?’ — which, from the glimpses we catch, is partly a love story and partly just a Buddhist monk saying stuff. Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo (playing Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo) are seen reviewing No Self on their radio show. Mark is disappointed: ‘The pretentious monk has no place in this film at all. Why didn’t the producer say: “Less monk”?’ I properly laughed, not for the first time, and not for the last.