Midsummer madness takes many forms. But what could be madder than a film week that twins the gloppy glitz of the newest Narnia epic – all gleaming battles, kindergarten Armageddon and crypto-Christianity – with an independent film as funny, brave, cheap and helplessly pessimistic as A Complete History of My Sexual Failures ?

We have all been to the first movie before, umpteen times in different ages. Hollywood’s C.S. Lewis-inspired franchise is C.B. DeMille with a coat of treacle: yahooing battles, scenery to smite the eyes, and Jesus (disguised as a lion) to wrap it all up and call it Christmas-come-early.