Ìý User Rating 
Contains strong language, violence and sex references
Chunky Monkey finds unhinged loner Donald Leek (David Threlfall) brooding in his flat, awaiting his weekly visit from a Julie Andrews lookalike, who may yet grant his ultimate fantasy - which involves the application of 'Chunky Monkey' ice cream to certain intimate body parts. Unfortunately, he's interrupted by two skinhead evangelists (or 'Chriskins'), Jesus Christ (in the shape of a man called Trevor with a magnificent afro) and assorted other nuts in this bizarre hit-and-miss comedy.
Chunky Monkey has been described as "Abigail's Party on acid", and while whoever first coined that phrase ought to be dipped in the stuff feet-first, it's a good enough approximation as any. It's hardly surprising this calls to mind Mike Leigh's celebrated comedy of suburban bores punching above their station. Stagey ensemble piece? Check. Set confined to one claustrophobic room? Ditto. Alison Steadman? Present and correct. Most tellingly, debut-director Cruttwell is another ex-Leigh alumni, having previously played the psychotic yuppie Jeremy in the notorious Naked. But there the similarity ends: this bears none of Abigail's subtleties, preferring noisy all-out farce to nuanced social commentary.
"THE LAUGHS ARE BIG AND FROM THE GUT"
Yet for all its determinedly left-field antics, there's a sense that this could have gone even further. Great satire needs to bite, and keep biting, long after the fingers have been gnawed clean off. Chunky fudges its moments of real horror although the laughs, when they come, are big and from the gut. Mostly, this is down to some terrific performances; in particular, Colin McFarlane's turn as black Jesus aka Trevor - whether he's walking on bathwater to prove his credentials during the film's single most startling scene, or chuckling indulgently to himself amid the carnage. Any cop? It rather depends on whether you prefer your satire served up in a fine allegorical sauce or red and dripping on the bone.
