“Strumpet” would air on the BBC in July of 2001. By the end of September of the same year, the second film to emerge between this collaboration between Danny Boyle and dramatist Jim Cartwright would debut on BBC Two. Which raises a second question: Who is Jim Cartwright anyway? I sure as heck don't know, because I'm not especially familiar with the world of modern British stage plays. If you are into that particular string of theatre, you probably already know who Mr. Cartwright is. He emerged onto the scene with his 1986 play, “Road,” a scathing and darkly funny condemnation of life in Thatcher's England. He became quickly acclaimed for his gritty and bizarre style, writing fifteen more plays, six other films, and an original novel. His subsequent work seems to vacillate between simplistic, single-word titles – other examples include “Bed,” “Baths,” and “Two” - and productions with more elaborate and unusual names, like “I Licked a Slag's Deodorant” and “The Ancient Secret of Youth and the Five Tibetans.” The film he wrote exclusively for television and Mr. Boyle has a title in that second tradition. “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” sure grabs your attention, doesn't it? The project would see Boyle fine-tuning the techniques he first discovered on “Strumpet.”
Pete dreams of becoming a party DJ but has, thus far, seen little success for his beats. In the meantime, he assembles music for his stripper girlfriend's dance routines. While she performs at a retirement party for an elderly door-to-door vacuum sales man, Pete is offered a job. He's not especially interested in selling vacuum cleaners but his girlfriend demands he start pulling his weight. He is paired with Tommy Rag, a vulgar and violent veteran salesman who has devoted his entire life to selling vacuums to people who don't need them. Tommy dreams of winning the Golden Vacuum, the award given to the most successful salesman of the year. (In-between seducing lonely house wives and chastising his trainee for every mistake he makes.) Pete finds the world of sketchy salesmanship difficult to adapt to, often feeling guilty for the few sales he does make. After his girlfriend dumps him due to his continued lack of success, he accompanies Tommy to the ceremony for the Golden Vacuum. There, new paths in life emerge for both men.
I found “Strumpet” to be too didactic in its themes, presenting its thoroughly well-trodden ideas of anti-corporate ranting within a story that couldn't decide if it wanted to be gritty and grounded or dreamy and fantastical. “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” has a similar point to make. This is another screed against the business world, depicting the life of a salesman as one devoted to cheating poor and desperate people out of what little money they have to sell them junk they don't need, all in the name of creating greater success and glory for the company and the individual. Tommy Rag is a thoroughly vile human being and his lack of a life outside his job contributes to that. Pete, meanwhile, longs to create music, to make art simply for the sake of it. Naturally, he ultimately finds self-fulfillment by pursuing his dream while Tommy Rag's life of relentless capitalistic greed leads to nothing but self-destruction. The message is clear as day: Do what makes you happy and don't worry about making money, because that will simply turn you into a wretched human being.
It's not exactly a fresh or revolutionary point to make. While "Strumpet" was mostly serious about its ideas, "Vacuuming Completely Nude" is a largely glib and outrageous comedy. It sees Boyle returning to the tone of "Trainspotting" or "Shallow Grave," creating humor by focusing on characters that regularly indulge in socially unacceptable behavior. Tommy's nonstop vulgarity, dancing erotically with castanets and a vacuum for a client, Pete's much more embarrassing and awkward attempt at sexual conquest, and opening with a striptease establishes the ribald and outrageous tone here. (Showing once again that BBC broadcast standards are a lot different from what we have in the U.S.) We are inhabiting a world here that is like our own but a little weirder and more unpredictable, Boyle adapting a thoroughly madcap and unhinged tone throughout. It is often hilarious, especially in the way Cartwright's script piles one unlikely event atop another. A particularly amusing sequence has Pete stumbling upon the recently deceased body of his elderly neighbor, whose hoarded collection of vintage newspapers end up combusted and adhered in pieces to his body. Tommy then summarizes each ancient new story on his protege's semi-nude body with odd specificity, multiplying the absurdity of the moment further.
There are other ideas on the film's mind too. From the opening scene, where a decrepit old man is rewarded for a life of work with a naked young woman grinding on him, the film links a man's success in the business world with his sexual potency. Despite being a grotesque human being, in appearance and behavior, Tommy Rag's ability to sell a product also gives him the ability to seduce pliable. (Though not any woman he wants, as the attractive new employee to the agency is immune to his rat-like charm.) Pete's girlfriend, purring around in a skin-tight leather cat-suit, refuses him sex until he's made a sale. After he experiences seller's remorse, he goes for an unsettling quickie with the first available female – who is mentally disabled in some way – out of a need to re-assert his masculinity. The movie ends with a random burst of some S&M-like whipping, an inability to be successful as he envisioned turning a man into a rampaging, naked beast. It's an astute observation, that a man's desire to satisfy his sexual urges and the constant need for success demanded by the business world are not too dissimilar. Both must constantly be met or else risk frustration of the highest level.
Notably, however, Pete's encounter with the disabled woman doesn't make him feel any better. He feels a lot worst, actually. The one vacuum sale he makes in the film is to a sickly, unemployed mother who is considering selling naked photographs – showing that our modern age of digital online sex work as a response to financial pressures are only the modern mutation of an older tradition – of herself to make end's meet. Her situation is so pathetic that Pete feels compelled to give her the money back. That results in his girlfriend denying him sex, calling him a “loser,” and leaving him. A man's worth in this world, right down to his sexual attractiveness, is often connected with his perceived “success.” Tommy's commitment to work gives him access to sexual conquests but the same barter leaves Pete feeling hollow, used, and filthy. By abandoning a life that insists a man is only worthwhile if he's taking advantageous of others does he find happiness. It's a lot deeper handling than “Strumpet's” worn-out insistence that corporate rock music sucks and D.I.Y. tunes are more real.
It's all quite interesting but that's not the real reason “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” made such an impression on me upon this viewing. Instead, the film is totally dominated by a tornado of a performance. Timothy Spall plays Tommy Rag. His already let's call it “distinctive” appearance is further emphasized by crummy suits and garishly coufed hair. He enters the film spewing a cloud of profane, colorful dialogue at a rocket's pace. From then, he rarely slows down. Spall's thick-accented voice nevertheless wraps itself so naturally around Cartwright's creatively vulgar writing that it seems to be emerging totally naturally from his own brain. Rag is a repulsive figure, living out of his car, always coated with a fine layer of sweat, lascivious towards women, and taking every chance he has to make a sale. (Which includes trying to sell a vacuum cleaner to a seemingly homeless hitchhiker.) When he explodes into a violent fury at the film's conclusion, it's merely the natural escalation of his already unhinged energy. Despite that, Spall remains utterly captivating. It's the exact kind of attention grabbing sliminess that people like this possess in real life. You know they are dreadful but somehow the eye is drawn towards them nonetheless.
In other words, the role is an ideal use of Spall's ability to dig fully into thickly scripted lines and become a physical dynamo of crazed force. Tommy Rag represents everything vile, cheap, and unbecoming about the world of commerce. As much as the character spends nearly his entire screentime being a grotesque villain, the film also grants him two surprising moments of serenity. Seemingly unprompted, while on hold over the phone, the character launches into a soft-spoken monologue describing a dream he had. It lends the film its odd title while also suggesting that, as monsterous as this man is, he does long for something simplier. His vision of an idyllic afterlife is one where he is done with the rat race, no longer needing to sell and can instead enjoy the bizarre tokens of the world he's absorbed himself in. A little while later, Spall gets another aside where he describes childhood memories, in which an innocent mind attempted to navigate a world that is far too often cruel. This provides context for the man Tommy Rag has become, while further suggesting that he has a lot more depth than his egotistical, materialistic attitude otherwise shows.
These scenes represents rare moments of calm in a movie that is more often a storm of wild nervousness. Continuing the digital video cinematography Boyle first used on “Strumpet,” much of “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” is composed of grainy and sometimes handheld camerawork. When paired with Spall's whirling performance, it lends the entire movie a captivatingly wild feeling. When Rag's insane driving skills are displayed, the film often attached itself directly to the perspective of the car as it sails in and out of busy traffic. However, “Vacuuming Completely Nude” also looks a lot better than Boyle's earlier experiment with digital video. Much like Spall's striking monologues, the film pauses for shots of grungy beauty among the gritty settings. We see a degree of the same precise framing that made Boyle's earlier films so visually captivating here, in a shot of a face, a pregnant pause in a conversation as two lips are positioned at either end of the frame.
The film seems much more in-tuned with its behind-the-scenes choice of technology too. Early on, the idea is introduced that soon the door-to-door salesman way of life will be utterly antiquated. A Japanese company is introducing younger workers to the company who will push the sales job into the realm of strictly by-phone and online orders. Tommy Rag doesn't know it yet – and refuses to acknowledge it, despite subconsciously sensing it – but he's the last of a species about to go extinct. Made in 2001, when the internet was quickly making in-roads into being an inescapable part of everyday life, “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” captures a moment when evolving technology was about to change everyone's life. That makes the choice of shooting the film on D.V., a newly emerging tech, all the more meaningful.
Running only a little over an hour also works for the film. If expanded to any longer, it's sweaty and frantic vibe probably would have become exhausting or overbearing. Kept to a tight 75 minutes leaves “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” as a concussive blast to the viewer's brain. It's a darkly funny and bizarre look at the world of commerce that is suitably vivid and gritty in its visuals. Home to an earthquake causing performance from a character actor operating at the top of his power. That makes the film an easily overlooked gem in Boyle's career, a strong correction of the flaws of “Strumpet” and a propulsive bit of filmmaking in its own right. Absolutely seek this one out, if you can find it. [Grade: A-]
Pete dreams of becoming a party DJ but has, thus far, seen little success for his beats. In the meantime, he assembles music for his stripper girlfriend's dance routines. While she performs at a retirement party for an elderly door-to-door vacuum sales man, Pete is offered a job. He's not especially interested in selling vacuum cleaners but his girlfriend demands he start pulling his weight. He is paired with Tommy Rag, a vulgar and violent veteran salesman who has devoted his entire life to selling vacuums to people who don't need them. Tommy dreams of winning the Golden Vacuum, the award given to the most successful salesman of the year. (In-between seducing lonely house wives and chastising his trainee for every mistake he makes.) Pete finds the world of sketchy salesmanship difficult to adapt to, often feeling guilty for the few sales he does make. After his girlfriend dumps him due to his continued lack of success, he accompanies Tommy to the ceremony for the Golden Vacuum. There, new paths in life emerge for both men.
I found “Strumpet” to be too didactic in its themes, presenting its thoroughly well-trodden ideas of anti-corporate ranting within a story that couldn't decide if it wanted to be gritty and grounded or dreamy and fantastical. “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” has a similar point to make. This is another screed against the business world, depicting the life of a salesman as one devoted to cheating poor and desperate people out of what little money they have to sell them junk they don't need, all in the name of creating greater success and glory for the company and the individual. Tommy Rag is a thoroughly vile human being and his lack of a life outside his job contributes to that. Pete, meanwhile, longs to create music, to make art simply for the sake of it. Naturally, he ultimately finds self-fulfillment by pursuing his dream while Tommy Rag's life of relentless capitalistic greed leads to nothing but self-destruction. The message is clear as day: Do what makes you happy and don't worry about making money, because that will simply turn you into a wretched human being.
There are other ideas on the film's mind too. From the opening scene, where a decrepit old man is rewarded for a life of work with a naked young woman grinding on him, the film links a man's success in the business world with his sexual potency. Despite being a grotesque human being, in appearance and behavior, Tommy Rag's ability to sell a product also gives him the ability to seduce pliable. (Though not any woman he wants, as the attractive new employee to the agency is immune to his rat-like charm.) Pete's girlfriend, purring around in a skin-tight leather cat-suit, refuses him sex until he's made a sale. After he experiences seller's remorse, he goes for an unsettling quickie with the first available female – who is mentally disabled in some way – out of a need to re-assert his masculinity. The movie ends with a random burst of some S&M-like whipping, an inability to be successful as he envisioned turning a man into a rampaging, naked beast. It's an astute observation, that a man's desire to satisfy his sexual urges and the constant need for success demanded by the business world are not too dissimilar. Both must constantly be met or else risk frustration of the highest level.
Notably, however, Pete's encounter with the disabled woman doesn't make him feel any better. He feels a lot worst, actually. The one vacuum sale he makes in the film is to a sickly, unemployed mother who is considering selling naked photographs – showing that our modern age of digital online sex work as a response to financial pressures are only the modern mutation of an older tradition – of herself to make end's meet. Her situation is so pathetic that Pete feels compelled to give her the money back. That results in his girlfriend denying him sex, calling him a “loser,” and leaving him. A man's worth in this world, right down to his sexual attractiveness, is often connected with his perceived “success.” Tommy's commitment to work gives him access to sexual conquests but the same barter leaves Pete feeling hollow, used, and filthy. By abandoning a life that insists a man is only worthwhile if he's taking advantageous of others does he find happiness. It's a lot deeper handling than “Strumpet's” worn-out insistence that corporate rock music sucks and D.I.Y. tunes are more real.
In other words, the role is an ideal use of Spall's ability to dig fully into thickly scripted lines and become a physical dynamo of crazed force. Tommy Rag represents everything vile, cheap, and unbecoming about the world of commerce. As much as the character spends nearly his entire screentime being a grotesque villain, the film also grants him two surprising moments of serenity. Seemingly unprompted, while on hold over the phone, the character launches into a soft-spoken monologue describing a dream he had. It lends the film its odd title while also suggesting that, as monsterous as this man is, he does long for something simplier. His vision of an idyllic afterlife is one where he is done with the rat race, no longer needing to sell and can instead enjoy the bizarre tokens of the world he's absorbed himself in. A little while later, Spall gets another aside where he describes childhood memories, in which an innocent mind attempted to navigate a world that is far too often cruel. This provides context for the man Tommy Rag has become, while further suggesting that he has a lot more depth than his egotistical, materialistic attitude otherwise shows.
These scenes represents rare moments of calm in a movie that is more often a storm of wild nervousness. Continuing the digital video cinematography Boyle first used on “Strumpet,” much of “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” is composed of grainy and sometimes handheld camerawork. When paired with Spall's whirling performance, it lends the entire movie a captivatingly wild feeling. When Rag's insane driving skills are displayed, the film often attached itself directly to the perspective of the car as it sails in and out of busy traffic. However, “Vacuuming Completely Nude” also looks a lot better than Boyle's earlier experiment with digital video. Much like Spall's striking monologues, the film pauses for shots of grungy beauty among the gritty settings. We see a degree of the same precise framing that made Boyle's earlier films so visually captivating here, in a shot of a face, a pregnant pause in a conversation as two lips are positioned at either end of the frame.
Running only a little over an hour also works for the film. If expanded to any longer, it's sweaty and frantic vibe probably would have become exhausting or overbearing. Kept to a tight 75 minutes leaves “Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise” as a concussive blast to the viewer's brain. It's a darkly funny and bizarre look at the world of commerce that is suitably vivid and gritty in its visuals. Home to an earthquake causing performance from a character actor operating at the top of his power. That makes the film an easily overlooked gem in Boyle's career, a strong correction of the flaws of “Strumpet” and a propulsive bit of filmmaking in its own right. Absolutely seek this one out, if you can find it. [Grade: A-]
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