It's richly ironic that a comedian perhaps best known for triggering a fit of clinical depression in Steve Martin by asking him why he wasn't funny anymore should himself be so horrendously unfunny onscreen, but Paul Kaye certainly proves that's the case with the irredeemably dismal Blackball. A poor actor and a worse comic, his bowls ace from the wrong side of the tracks is one of the most horribly misconceived characters in years, so utterly charmless, repugnant and phenomenally unlikeable that you can only sympathise with the film's nominal villains and hope that one of them will bash the obnoxious bore repeatedly over the head with a bowling ball until his legs stop twitching. Yes, this is a film that actually has the power to make you side with Daily Mail reading snobs...
The story follows a predictably formulaic route - Kaye's bad boy of British bowls falls foul of the old farts who rule the sport, becomes a media sensation thanks to a ruthless agent's media machinations and lets success go to his head before redeeming himself and yada yada yada. Except in this case he actually seems slightly LESS obnoxious when at the height of his success and egomania than he is in the rest of the film. Vince Vaughn gives the film what little energy it has as his agent, James Cromwell adds a modicum of class as his professional rival and prospective father-in-law while Alice Evans characterisation consists almost entirely of looking awkwardly to one side or the other whenever he says anything, though not rolling her eyes in contempt at her co-star was probably such a titanic effort that you can't really hold it against her. If you really feel the need for a good comedy about bowls, check out Aussie flick Crackerjack instead.