Max Skinner is a reptilian stockbroker, loved by his boss and lawyer and reviled by everyone else. But his high-pressure life takes a turn for the unexpected as he inherits a house and vineyard in France from his estranged Uncle Henry; the closest thing he had to a father. He crosses the channel, intending to sort out the estate and flog the house. But once he gets there, he finds himself remembering how happy his childhood holidays in Provence were and wonders what happened to the person he used to be. Is all the money he earns in the City worth more than a chance at happiness?

The worst thing about the film though is its lack of comic timing. Ridley Scott just doesn't DO comedy - he clearly finds it too difficult. So every poorly placed sound effect gag, pratfall, mad old Frenchman and speeded-up car journey feels laboured. He either pre-empts it, lingers too long or misses the punch-line, as if he's waiting for validation. It's a scattershot approach that doesn't work well and if further compounded by miscasting. Russell Crowe is the wrong man for the job and the film just doesn't hang together. The pacing is sloppy and it feels like director and star got together and bashed out a bunch of scenarios between bouts of wine-drinking and sunbathing. The overall impression is of a lazy movie that at a hundred and eighteen minutes is about half an hour too long. And it never fits convincingly into any genre; being neither comedy, drama nor romance.

Oscar-winner Russell Crowe may be able to convince as a Roman general or a Depression-era boxer, but he doesn't have it in him to play an English stockbroker. For a kick-off his accent throughout is duff. He doesn't look British and he doesn't act it; he has way too much swagger, even for a high-paid City player. He may be able to do smug and act like a prick, but considering the character "doesn't do holidays", he relaxes far too easily into the slower pace of rural French life. Considering he's a ladies' man, he falls in love far too easily. Crowe lacks the requisite comic timing to make the slapstick and one-liners work. He doesn't commit to the role and you can tell he took the part for the money, the promise of an easy time and a holiday in Provence. And let's not forget he looks way too old for the role. According to the flashbacks he should be in his early thirties, but flabby Crowe looks closer to fifty. I mean, he wears a vest under his shirt, for God's sake!