This is the fourth filmed version of P. G. Wodehouse's comic novel of the same name. It was filmed in 1919 (directed by Wesley Ruggles, younger brother of the actor Charlie Ruggles) and in 1936 (directed by Robert Z. Leonard and starring Robert Montgomery),both times under its correct title. It was next filmed under the title THE GIRL ON THE BOAT (1961),directed by Henry Kaplan, and featuring the famous comedian Norman Wisdom as well as Millicent Martin, Richard Briers, and others of note. And then for this production of 2005, they went back to the original title again. 'Piccadilly Jim' is a wild young man who is the main character, and should be played by somebody truly extraordinary. Unfortunately, here he is played by a somewhat colourless actor who is about as interesting as a crushed toadstool, Sam Rockwell. However, the other performers do their best to 'act around him' and cover up the vacuum of his performance with their own energetic, and often hysterical performances. Tom Wilkinson is a steadying factor, good dependable Tom who can never let anyone down, including his son in this film, played by the nonentity aforementioned. The script by Julian Fellowes, the approach, the director, the design, all conspire in unison to leave the true Edwardian Age behind and enter into an overt fantasy-Edwardian Age for younger audiences who never knew any real Edwardians and might not realize just how hilarious every word that Wodehouse ever wrote really was. For those of us who knew genuine Edwardians (not to mention not a few surviving ancient Victorians as well),the fun of Wodehouse is the way he mocks, taunts, and teases the authentic types of the period by depicting them as the most outrageous caricatures imaginable. And as everyone knows, a good caricature only works if it closely resembles its subject. This film does not closely resemble anything that ever really existed, and was not planned to do so. I personally prefer the Wodehouse adaptations which affectionately and outrageously distort the truth, as opposed to this approach, which is to forget satire altogether and invent a wholly new truth where it is comedy rather than satire that is really the aim. For authentic vintage Wodehouse, one should see the three successive TV series called WODEHOUSE PLAYHOUSE, starring the amazing John Alderton, from the 1970s. Here it must be said that the design, the costumes, the look, are all simply dazzling. Taken in its own right, and forgetting its origins, this film is a tour de force of over-the-top but certainly scintillating fantasy. It takes the word 'camp' and raises it to a higher power. It is also great fun. But it is strictly for non-Purists only. I suppose that makes me impure.

PICCADILLY JIM is one of my favorite Wodehouse books. It's a non-series novel with the concomitant flaws of early Wodehouse. But the story has Wodehouse's most masterly "impostor" plot where a young man is introduced as a guest into a private home masquerading ... as himself. If you want an explanation, see this movie and all will be made clear.

The cast is excellent. Sam Rockwell enters the Wodehouse world with surprising aplomb as Jimmy. Tom Wilkinson is superb as his father, an ex-pat American married to a woman (improbably) trying to buy him a title; but he misses baseball so much he sails home pretending to be a butler. Rockwell and Wilkinson have a tremendous rapport. Meanwhile, the real butler (Geoffrey Palmer) is assumed to be Rockwell's father by Francis O'Connor as the love interest. All clear? No? Good!

The movie remains strangely loyal to Wodehouse's convoluted story, tinkering with it here and there for clarity. It's played up to the hilt, but none of the actors (even Hugh Bonneville, the worst offender as a German spy never quite goes over the top--though given the setting of the movie and the time the book was written it's never clear whether he's working for the Nazis or the Kaiser in trying to steal a new secret bomb formula, a little thing Wodehouse threw in just for added confusion).

The problem most people have with this flick is the problem I feared I might have. And it's a perfectly valid criticism. Read on.

While this Wodehouse is thankfully set in the 1930s (actually, PICCADILLY JIM was written a lot earlier, but we'll let that pass) it is a thirties that never existed except in the beautifully deranged minds of the designers. It's an alternative-history thirties, done in steampunk style. These thirties were never as they were (certainly no one seems to feel there's a depression on) but as they should have been were they more like the twenty-first century.

For instance, the London nightclub Jimmy (Rockwell) goes to meet Ann (O'Connor) is playing ersatz swing music, far too booming to be real swing, and is sung by a singer with WAY too much decolletage for the period, but it works. They throw in just enough of the real thirties to make you buy the weird hairdos and clothes and far-outrageous Decco sets.

The trick is not to take any of it seriously. It's a feast for the eyes. Sit back and enjoy it--at least the story is mostly straight.

The worst result in this bastardized mix certain moral attitudes. The best of Wodehouse was free of post-Freudian angst. Even couples seeking engagement were not driven by sexual hankerings. Therefore, it is shocking when sexual activity is implied (which it is early on, but not so much later on). This is a liberty with the text I personally disliked, but is less unseemly with this bizarre 1930s/2000s blend.

MAJOR SPOILER: As some reviewers have pointed out, the actual butchery of Wodehouse is a single change in the plot. And it's not a small alteration. Jimmy (Rockwell) was "Piccadilly Jim" who wrote little pieces for the paper. As in Wodehouse, Jimmy is now sacked and someone else is writing the "Piccadilly Jim" column. In the book, Jimmy wrote a bad review of a younger Ann's self-published book of romantic verse (in squishy leather). Any Wodehouse fan can tell you the attitude toward verse published in squishy leather. In the book, Jimmy wrote the review. In the movie, his successor is the real culprit, writing under the "Piccadilly Jim" brand name. But if Jimmy tells Ann who he's not just pretending to be Jimmy but he actually is Jimmy, she is less likely to marry him and more likely to kill him.

And that's not the very worst. This is: Whoever wrote the review, Jimmy or his successor, the book and movie handle the situation in diametrically opposite ways. Wodehouse can be awfully, and hilariously, callous in his treatment of children and minor poets. But the movie treats the issue in more of a touchy-feely twenty-first century way that removes its fangs. Shame.

Nevertheless, Jimmy's discovery of "his" reviews is very funny. And the movie's treatment of Ann is beautiful. Because of that review, Ann abandoned poetry and started writing crime novels noted for their violence. All written, no doubt, with "Piccadilly Jim" in mind. Though this treatment of Ann is hardly canonical, it's a lovely touch, and I like this neurotic and dangerous, hard-drinking, crime-writing Ann a whole lot better than Wodehouse's heroine of a century ago.

Overall, it's a very good adaptation, only occasionally skating around Wodehouse's tightly-wound plot. It hardly presents any sort of real living conditions of the period, but ... frankly, neither did Wodehouse himself. If you can stomach the weird sets and styles, you're in for a lot of laughs. Unlike a lot of Wodehouse adaptations (for instance, I was never sold on Stephen Fry's Jeeves),this one is fast moving and FUNNY. And what is generally overlooked is that, like Wodehouse at his best, it's joyful.

There are not many actors whose appearance in a movie is reason enough for me to watch. Sam Rockwell is one of them.

His unique charm was perfectly suited to the quirky indie movies he's played in. It was inevitable that his shot at big time Hollywood would come. First George Clooney insisted on him for "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind" and then he co-starred with Nicholas Cage in "Matchstick Men". For a brief moment I feared we would loose Sam. But no, his next career choice was to be "Piccadilly Jim". If you've not heard of it, not to worry, it went most deservedly on the straight-to-video route.

The thing is – the industry simply has little faith in Sam Rockwell. Just look at the Video and DVD art work of his movies. In "Lawn Dogs" (his finest film) – he's barely off the screen, and yet the art work is dominated by Angie Harmon who barely has a minute of screen time. One can forgive "Confession of a Dangerous Mind" for such treatment when co-stars include Clooney and Julia Roberts – but Angie Harmon ?! The art work of "Piccadilly Jim" is equally unfair. Rockwell has the title role and yet who should dominate the art work but Alison Janey, in a very minor part.

What makes Sam Rockwell such an appealing actor is the inability to pigeon hole him. But it would seem that the powers that be in the industry hold that against him.

"Piccadilly Jim" is a hugely misguided effort which backfires in all departments. Even the likes of Brenda Blethyn and Alison Janey fall short, while Frances O'Connor is completely out of her depth. Only Sam Rockwell, miscast as he might be, is, as always, terrific.

Steer clear of this one on all accounts. Search out Rockwell's earlier works and here's hoping he'll be more fortunate with future projects.