Screened as part of NZIFF 2008

A Complete History of My Sexual Failures 2008

Directed by Chris Waitt

A self-confessed loser in love tracks down his numerous exes for interviews in this comedic documentary of humiliation and haplessness.

UK In English
90 minutes DigiBeta

Director

Photography

Steven Mochrie

Editors

Chris Dickens
,
Mark Atkins

With

Chris Waitt
,
Hilary Waitt
,
Vicki
,
Julia
,
Dawn
,
Danielle
,
Za
,
Olivia
,
Lucy
,
Janet
,
Charlie
,
Ziggie
,
Mistress Maisie

Festivals

Sundance, Edinburgh 2008

Elsewhere

A self-confessed loser in love tracks down his numerous exes for interviews in this comedic documentary of humiliation and haplessness. London-based filmmaker Chris Waitt has been dumped by every girl he‘s ever dated (and he‘s dated close to 20). The last one ditched him with no explanation after only three weeks, but others have dumped him by phone, email, text and even by book - one ex wrote a novel, dedicated to him, featuring an appalling "boyfriend" character who is brutally murdered. Heartbroken, dejected, and completely miffed, Waitt devises a documentary odyssey to track down his exes and ask them, face-to-face, why he‘s forever being dumped. In encounters that range from livid to indifferent, amused and appalled, the answers come back in missiles: he‘s messy, he‘s always late, he‘s a slacker, he‘s terminally self-absorbed. His conclusion: clearly they‘re all crazy. An attempt to jump start his love life via the Internet turns up a worrying performance issue, for which Waitt devises a drastic cure involving Viagra and a merciless dominatrix he hooks up with on MySpace.

Is Waitt‘s film a cleverly scripted work of fiction or the most self-flagellating confessional ever committed to celluloid? The jury remains out. When he reaches the girl who was the love of his life, contrivance gives way to bursts of spontaneous, distressing emotion no actor can fake. And in scenes where Waitt is, um, exposed, there‘s no pixellating of pickles, à la Borat. By the end of this hilarious and hair-raising documentary, Waitt has made such a complete (though endearing) ass of himself that issues of authenticity cease to matter. — BZ