It's his painting, his lucky painting.

Ben Barnes, formally of "Oh, look at him, baby faced and legal" fame, plays Dorian Gray, a 20-something rich playboy lothario in Victorian London, a Russell Brand without the prank calls. He goes around innocent, until Colin Firth finds him and creates an evil, nasty, bitter human who sells his soul for infinite youth, eventually costing the man his mind.

Only we don't get much in the way of plot when we watch, instead are often just elongated set pieces involving sex, drama, which is pretty much reduced to, he loves a woman, is a prick, they kill themselves, he cries, fucks another girl... and then lots of Victorian detail like Sweeney Todd, only on a smaller budget.

The music is appalling, mostly out of place, ruining moments, too modern at other points, it makes no sense why it was deemed anything but temp, add the acting is sub-par, heck, the one reason I went to see it, Rebecca Hall, is a waste of time, since she only appears in the dying 25 minutes of the film, I say dying because by that point you've completely lost any interest, and are now waiting for the flatline.

Lets just say this and save me getting rather annoyed, nothing works in this film, whose tone is inconsistent and length and pacing is diabolical, it's a tragedy films from England can still be this shit.

2/10