A Complete History of My Sexual Failures
Time Out says
Unfortunately, answers 1 and 3 limit the empathy and vision needed to be anything more than an adequate filmmaker; nevertheless, Waitt’s diary-like, rough-and-ready film trots along merrily enough as a one-gag pony, even though you’d be crazy to believe the spontaneity and naivety on which it claims to ride. It begins as an amusing idea: let’s visit all the girlfriends who’ve dumped me over the years. Let’s trawl through old love letters with long-suffering mum Hilary. And let’s kick off a series of new dates via MySpace.
That’s where the goodwill runs out. In apparent desperation at a lack of material, Waitt latches on to newly diagnosed erectile dysfunction for company, but even that becomes a joke when he necks five Viagras. There’s something truly tragic about his encounter with Vicky, an ex who’s now pregnant but for whom Waitt claims still to harbour affection. And whatever Waitt’s ‘individual’ qualities, his film sparks a few thoughts about the transience of love and its sheer oddness when sometimes viewed in retrospect.