However, the poor pacing, technical shortcomings, and tonal indecision prevent it from being a genre classic. It is neither consistently funny enough for the comedy crowd nor consistently arousing enough for the CFNM aficionado. It falls into an uncanny valley – a British folly that is too self-aware to be trashy and too clumsy to be sophisticated.
Third, and most critically, the film suffers from an identity crisis. It can’t decide if it wants to be a genuine erotic power-exchange drama, a bawdy British sex comedy in the Carry On tradition, or a parody of period legal thrillers. The result is a tonal whiplash. A scene of genuine, simmering erotic tension (Barkwith on his knees, being measured for a “symbolic livery” by a silk-gloved Claudia Saint) is immediately followed by a three-minute montage of Barkwith falling through a hedge. The comedy undercuts the eroticism, and the eroticism makes the comedy feel uncomfortable, rather than risqué. Lord Barkwith Cfnm
The CFNM elements are strictly observed. Not once does a female cast member disrobe, while Barkwith finds himself in progressively more absurd states of undress – from a missing towel after a “traditional” bath, to being forced to present a legal argument wearing only a bow tie and a pair of borrowed wellingtons. The best scene involves a formal tea service where Barkwith must balance a biscuit on a very precarious part of his anatomy while discussing property easements. It’s silly, but it works. However, the poor pacing, technical shortcomings, and tonal