Keep the Aspidistra Flying (1997)

Keep the Aspidistra Flying is a charming little rebellion of a film: a romantic comedy-drama that skewers money, status, and the vanity of “being an artist” with a light touch and a sharp eye. Its wit doesn’t come from punchlines so much as from the way it observes people—especially a self-serious would-be poet and the patient, practical woman who loves him—letting warmth and anarchic humor bubble up naturally from their choices. The vibe is sprightly and sweet-natured, funny without straining and touching without begging for tears, the kind of story that makes you smile even as it quietly lands a few truths. If you like character-driven British comedy with a romantic spine and a satirical bite, it’s a delight; if you need big plot twists or broad gags, it may feel too gentle, but that gentleness is exactly its strength.

Keep the Aspidistra Flying is clearly aiming for a wry, romantic character study about pride, money, and the self-sabotage of an aspiring “genius” who thinks art should outrank comfort. The problem is the film can feel oddly flat and a bit enigmatic in the wrong way, as if it’s withholding emotional payoff rather than building mystery, so you may end up watching more out of curiosity than genuine involvement. If you love Orwell’s novel, be warned: the adaptation takes enough liberties that it may register as unfaithful, especially in tone and bite. Still, it has a modest, low-key watchability and a relatable premise, so it might work for you if you enjoy subdued period dramas where the point is the slow grind of disillusionment rather than big comedic or romantic sparks.