We watched "Sex Lives of the Potato Men" last night.

Usually when I explain movies to someone I like to say it's like a cross between X and Y, but not this. This film (which really doesn't warrant the title "Movie") stands on its own, and not in a good way.

You get the impression from the outset that its production budget is slightly less than your average monthly grocery budget, which for some films fills them with innovative low-budget genius. This film just ticks over though. It uses out of town locations (and I know because there's some I walk past every time I step foot outside my house), untried scriptwriter and apart from the three c-list headliners, a largely unknown and never-will-be-known cast.

The plot is pretty much described by the title. Four potato delivery drivers try various ways of getting laid. One - Johnny Vegas - is removed from the family home and somewhat half-heartedly enters the suburban swinging scene, which is realistically portrayed as being full of middle-aged bored couples in towels.

Another , Mackenzie Crook (from The Office) is shagging the girl from the chippy while living in the storeroom. This girl turns out to have a voyeuristic husband whose aggressive insistence on hiding while she gets shagged leads to some disturbing but genuinely funny moments.

Our next protagonist, played well by the talented Mark Gatiss ("League of Gentlemen") stalks the daughter of a client, steals the family dog and meets a nice woman who he settles down with. This makes a nice semi-romantic grounding which helps keep the film from flying off into complete bizarreness and farce. Strange considering what Gatiss is used to writing.

The final member of this quorum is unbelievably the most gruesome and as such is the most comical. After using strawberry jam as a sex aid, he's become addicted to the taste, trying in turn fishpaste, kippers and squid in an attempt to recapture the taste he became addicted to. He eventually rediscovers it in the voluptuous form of Kay Purcell, an actress I quite enjoy watching and who really doesn't get enough screen time in this. A fate which befalls the very watchable Lucy Davis too.

The film is an excellent antidote to the mass produced let-downs coming out of Hollywood lately, gross and unpalatable in places, stark throughout, it manages to maintain the level of humour we have come to expect from Johnny Vegas, which, as cheeky, rude, gross and wry as it is, is not a bad thing.

Let's not paint it in a false light. This is not a film that would make your top ten. This is not a film you'd run out and buy on DVD. It may not even last in your memory further than the Odeon lobby, but it's a worthy and realistic slice of British institution comedy. There's also something reminiscent of Ealing and Brian Rix about this film, which in my eyes saves it from total unwatchability. I won't say go and buy it, but if you're planning a night in with the lads and a few bevvies, I'd say there were far worse films you could lift off the Blockbuster shelves - especially if you come from Southwest Birmingham, as it makes for a good game of "Spot the location".