It’s the night before the
crappiest happiest day of Charlotte’s (Sarah Solemani) life. Tomorrow she marries the awesome Tom (Rupert Evans) and she slips into his room for a bunk-up. “You shouldn’t be in here, it’s bad luck” he whispers “I’ll probably turn out to be a rapist or something!” They laugh. We all laugh. Life! Wait, Charlotte’s got one. That year she spent in France? She basically spent it being spit roasted senseless by two French studs the entire time. Legend. Tom can top that. This ex-girlfriend of his said he raped her. Mental! No really, she was a bit mental.
And yet something about this completely innocent revelation disturbs Charlotte. Maybe it was the time he got a bit rapey with her once. She thought it was a bit odd at the time but you know how it is with couplescum (life threateningly tedious). She seems distant as she breakfasts with her ukelele playing cunt¹ of a father (Michael Gould) and her smiley tub of a mother (Harriet Thorpe).
When she fesses up to Tom’s bantz moms tells her to fuggedaboutit – after all, we’ve all had the occasional rape. It’s good common-sense advice but on the very precipice of the wedding her sisturd Bee advises her to drive off fast in the opposite direction of Tom to have another threesome. It certainly is tempting.
But in the end Charlotte takes the road most travelled and marries reliable rapey Tom. Better the devil you know after all. We finish on her new husbland being a bit weird, controlling and having issues with boundaries and consent.
If only there were some kind of warning?
The verdict: Wedding bellends.
Marks out of 10: 7
¹ …and other tautologies.