SPOILERS!
that's all i'm gonna say. if you haven't seen the fucking thing or know the twist (which i didn't) then turn away...we're all grown-ups here, even zahveed.
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...i couldn't tell you how long the scenes in the house last in 'atonement'. i usually check my watch because i'm such a writer that i have to see if i'm right about how long the acts last. the first act of 'atonement' (in and of itself, a fairly decent model narrative that certainly doesn't feel like one on the screen) is a model of formal mastery. not technical proficiency but formal mastery just like p.t.a.'s work on the majority of 'there will be blood'. to say i was on the edge of my seat is an understatement. i could tell that mcavoy and knightly weren't going to interest me at all from frame once but how joe wright views them from a distance and repeats the scenes, i almost didn't care. this was saiorse ronan's picture and my god, what a little talent. just an effortless presence.
having not read the book (sadly, haven't read one in a couple years now, my a.d.d. too frazzled out on laptop writing, glasses of wine, editing, and short film directing), i quite simply did not know where this movie was going. in retrospect: non-fiction, fiction, and epilogue. this is a two act film with essay-epilogue. there is an eroticism to the library scenes that rocked me. i can only imagine what would happen if knightley weren't such a face monster. her mouth is that of an angler fish found deep in the ocean and when she told mcavoy she loved him, all i thought was LOOK OUT! SHE'S GONNA BITE! wonderful stuff all, in the house.
then...we change things up. i understand why we change things up and they do a reasonably adept job. let it be said that joe wright's collaboration with his cinematographer and his musical scorer is pretty fantastic. it was on 'pride & prejudice' which also suffered myriad other problems but announced a talent i couldn't deny. here, he shoots himself in the foot by being too damn brilliant in the first act, shooting his load early on and just smearing it on the belly for another couple hours. to keep that metaphor going a little bit further, to say that by the epilogue it has all dried up doesn't do it justice; it's a LISTEN, BABY...I GOTTA GO that can only be countered by WAIT, WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN DOING ALL THIS TIME?
the movie doesn't earn the ending. it does on paper. probably in the book. not on the screen, but damned if vanessa redgrave isn't astonishing. in retrospect, i'm surprised i didn't call the twist. there is no meat to the second half at all, just a tracking shot, and one that announces itself far too much. mike d'angelo wrote a fantastic mini-essay on the fetishizing of the tracking shot that i don't entirely agree with but while i am amazed by The Shot, it only exists to compensate.
i am supposed to be overwhelmed by the change in mcavoy and knightley by the end, a sense of "Look at What Has Been Done?" i felt like 'atonement' as a film doesn't really grasp the concept. there are individual scenes that exist only as works of visual formal beauty, such as when mcavoy watching that film, the name of which eludes me sadly. these moments are fantastic momen to moment but do not draw me into the inner-life, which, like knightley & mcavoy's acting is only skin-deep, only allowed to be skin-deep.
the plurality of wright's vision surpasses anything in 'the english patient' (a movie that i think at this point is pretty underrated) but he could've learned a few lessons from what minghella did to that novel. he expanded it in the relationship between fiennes and thomas. there are no leads in 'atonement' and that is wrong. the leads HAVE to be knightley and mcavoy. it's about their love story and wright loses track of that. when we return to briony, we're supposed to look at what she has done and marvel at the change in her character, and know immediately why she has done what she has done with her life. instead, it's just an edit.
much of 'atonement' is fantastic. it deserves attention and i'm rather astonished that joe wright wasn't nominated today and indeed by the director's guild. what he does is certainly more admirable than what tony gilroy does (his film's text and importance reduced to background noise) and certainly what jason reitman does. i'm rather astonished that 'atonement' wasn't nominated for director, film editing, and sound mixing as well, the latter two more deserving than almost anything else it was nominated for. basically, the move inside of 'atonement' has not gotten out, but what is there is so overwhelmingly powerful at times.
Atonement: The Poll
He does have a kind of classic quality, doesn't he? I could also see him in the Lew Ayres role in All Quiet on the Western Front.Mike Kelly wrote:There's something very old-fashioned British about James McAvoy's screen presence.
"The mantle of spinsterhood was definitely in her shoulders. She was twenty five and looked it."
-Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
-Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
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rolotomasi99
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Mister Tee wrote:You might have guessed by this point I fall on the "No" side of the Dunkirk shot. Part of the problem was, thanks to the publicity, I knew the second we hit the beach we were in for a seven-minute wonder; any surprise factor was eliminated. But I think I'd have had problems with it anyway. As I was watching it, my mind flashed to earlier such scenes -- the war zone sequence in Children of Men; the post-battle Non Nobis Domine in Henry V; hell, even the Atlanta railroad station in Gone With the Wind. And my recollection was, in each of those cases, I was held not by the bravura of the camera but by the intensity of an action or by the information conveyed: in Children, it was tension over whether Theo and Kee would get where they needed to; in Henry, it was seeing the full extent of the carnage Agincourt had yielded; and in GWTW, it was seeing Scarlett slowly realize how meaningless, in context, were her temporal concerns. In this film, I had no such sense of growing awareness: everything I needed to know about the debacle of Dunkirk was evident in the establishing shot. From there on, it was simply a matter of watching the camera swirl around and show us one disconnected anecdotal pose after another. And all I could really think was how complicated and expensive the whole thing must have been to stage.
well, for me it was the exact opposite. i had no prior knowledge of the dunkirk scene, and i am a big geek who loves noticing tricky camera work (which is why i love the works of p.t. anderson...but i digress).
however, when i was watching the scene it was not the technicality of the production that impressed me so much but the performance of james mcavoy. i loved him in THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND, but ATONEMENT has convinced me he is a truly great actor and i look forward to more from him in the future.
when i watched that scene, i kept my eyes on the emotions passing over robbie's face as he sees the destruction before him. the point of that moment was robbie realizing there is something bigger out there than his problems. as bad a turn as his life has taken, he needs to realize the danger england is facing (much like scarlett does in atlanta).
as far as i can remember, mcavoy is hardly ever out of frame (if at all). this scene is about him, and all the destruction is on the periphery. that scene would have fallen flat if he had not been able to keep the rhythm of the emotions needed.
we all know that great performances in any given scene are made up of various shots from different takes, but mcavoy had to nail the peformance in one long shot. from what i heard they only were able to shoot the scene three times. can you imagine the kind of pressure that puts on an actor, to have all that money and set-up all resting on you getting the performance right. for that scene alone, mcavoy should be nominated for best actor.
you can probably tell i enjoyed the movie. i expected some stodgy costume drama like OUT OF AFRICA or something like that, but i was really blown away by the energy and emotional beauty of the film.
Edited By rolotomasi99 on 1199459560
"When it comes to the subject of torture, I trust a woman who was married to James Cameron for three years."
-- Amy Poehler in praise of Zero Dark Thirty director Kathryn Bigelow
-- Amy Poehler in praise of Zero Dark Thirty director Kathryn Bigelow
Tee: I, too, thought that Wright opted for more of a traditional love story rather than the exploration of the writer's control over narrative and "working things out in one's fiction that have been truly fucked up in life" kind of thing which any writer can relate to and what the novel's really about. The fact that McEwan purposely leaves things ambiguous at the end of his novel signifies his own control over the story while, at the same time, providing the kind of tragic, unresolved denoument this story deserves. I think the film (and the various Brionies) did a fairly good job of conveying the guilt and horror of the character of Briony which has always been the strength of the novel. On the other hand, I don't believe that Wright has completely ignored the writer's dilemma aspect of the novel. The act of writing (novels, short stories, plays, even erotic missives) and miscommunication is explored thematically throughout the entirely film. Wright even uses the typewriter as film score. He just doesn't ever seem to make the necessary leap that makes that theme stand out in the way it truly deserves.
Edited By flipp525 on 1199466618
Edited By flipp525 on 1199466618
"The mantle of spinsterhood was definitely in her shoulders. She was twenty five and looked it."
-Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
-Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
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Mister Tee
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Atonement demonstrates that, with first-rate source material and a director who's not totally incompetent, you can produce a decent movie (a premise, as BJ notes, recently challenged by Love in the Time of Cholera). But it also demonstrates the gap between a simply competent director and a truly gifted one -- the difference, in Twain's phrase, between lightning and a lightning bug. The film works; it plays (odd, how those two seeming antonyms are used interchangeably in drama) -- but it doesn't soar, or sing. And I think Joe Wright is most of the reason.
I had my suspicions about Wright after Pride and Prejudice…particularly in the early scenes, when he had the Bennett girls rushing about giddily and cacophonously. It seemed like he was trying for (totally inappropriate) early-Altman effects. He was fine in simple dialogue scenes -- again, competence -- but the harder he strained for bravura, the worse he stumbled. So, too, in Atonement.
You might have guessed by this point I fall on the "No" side of the Dunkirk shot. Part of the problem was, thanks to the publicity, I knew the second we hit the beach we were in for a seven-minute wonder; any surprise factor was eliminated. But I think I'd have had problems with it anyway. As I was watching it, my mind flashed to earlier such scenes -- the war zone sequence in Children of Men; the post-battle Non Nobis Domine in Henry V; hell, even the Atlanta railroad station in Gone With the Wind. And my recollection was, in each of those cases, I was held not by the bravura of the camera but by the intensity of an action or by the information conveyed: in Children, it was tension over whether Theo and Kee would get where they needed to; in Henry, it was seeing the full extent of the carnage Agincourt had yielded; and in GWTW, it was seeing Scarlett slowly realize how meaningless, in context, were her temporal concerns. In this film, I had no such sense of growing awareness: everything I needed to know about the debacle of Dunkirk was evident in the establishing shot. From there on, it was simply a matter of watching the camera swirl around and show us one disconnected anecdotal pose after another. And all I could really think was how complicated and expensive the whole thing must have been to stage.
And that wasn't even my least favorite shot in the film. That honor falls to the introduction of Briony's corps of nurses, which was shot with such brio and precision I fully expected the group to break out into a musical number. Jesus Christ: just let them walk! It's not that I'm opposed to such attention-grabbing shots on principle (I like Scorsese and Fosse and Anderson, and, as we remember, LOVED Children of Men). I just think Wright uses them for their own sake; not to advance the cinematic story. (It's not like I was down on every choice. I did like the typewriter motif, for instance)
But sometimes -- especially in the opening section -- I felt Wright's styling kept me at a distance from the story. Cecelia and Robbie's scenes at the house seemed too clipped, as if they were more about the pictures Wright was composing than the drama contained therein. Thus, I didn't feel the engagement with the characters' passions I felt reading the novel…and, as a result, only Briony really emerged as a full-bodied human for me in this part of the film.
I also was disappointed in the way Wright staged Robbie's return with the twins. McEwan had described it as occurring just as first light began to appear, which I think would have made a far more appealing image. Second, more important, where was Robbie's sense of joyful triumph? He's saved the day, as far as he's concerned; he should be beaming -- only to then have his life shattered seconds later. The way it's presented, Robbie looks like he knows his goose is cooked from two hundred yards away. You'd almost swear he was guilty.
The Cecelia/Robbie and Briony scenes during the war are more full-bodied; again, I think these 2-3 character scenes are something Wright does well. McAvoy recovers from (for me) his slow start and gives a pretty full performance (culminating in his acid fury at Briony in the apartment). He's borderline as a best actor candidate for me, but wouldn't be undeserving. I don't think Knightley has all that much to do; she's fine, but even less deserving of a lead actress nod than she was last time out (and please, girl: put those 10-15 pounds back on!) I liked all the Briony's, pretty equally…but if I had to choose one to nominate, it'd be Ronan, simply because she has the most dominant role.
I, too, missed the Trials of Arabella play in the last sequence; I looked forward to seeing the family reunited so many years later, and watching the tensions of that long-ago afternoon rekindled (I also would have preferred to ease out of the story, rather than have it end so abruptly). My theory is, Hampton and Wright decided to eliminate all this and focus on the interview because, paradoxically, that changed the emphasis from Briony's writing (and the ambivalence it reflected) to the tragic and swoony romance of Robbie and Cecelia. Consider this subtle change from McEwan -- his aged-Briony never exactly said Robbie and Cecelia DID die; she simply mused over what purpose would be served by putting such a fact in front of her readers (I just re-read the passage last night; it's very artfully ambiguous). McEwan's novel is of course largely about a girl who did a horrible thing and how/whether she could ever atone for it; but it's also about how the writer, with so many options at her disposal, holds ultimate power -- the literal last word (omnipotence on the page compared to impotence in life). The filmmakers strip most of that away; they also downplay young-Briony's pique at her treatment by the cousins -- in the novel, their lack of interest in performing her play seems part of what motivates her vile act. But here, it's her unrequited young-girl crush over Robbie that's to blame. So, Hampton/Wright opt not for McEwan's tonier/more nuanced approach, but rather dive in headfirst to movie-love: giving their lovers a tragic end, their protagonist deserved life-long guilt, and their audience a deeply romantic ending. A little nod to commerce, perhaps?
One thing I don't remember from the novel that I thought was clever: Briony notes how Dunkirk, a disaster by most measures, was somehow being sold as a morale-boosting retrenchment. Am I wrong in thinking this was analogous to Briony's power over the facts of her story?
I had my suspicions about Wright after Pride and Prejudice…particularly in the early scenes, when he had the Bennett girls rushing about giddily and cacophonously. It seemed like he was trying for (totally inappropriate) early-Altman effects. He was fine in simple dialogue scenes -- again, competence -- but the harder he strained for bravura, the worse he stumbled. So, too, in Atonement.
You might have guessed by this point I fall on the "No" side of the Dunkirk shot. Part of the problem was, thanks to the publicity, I knew the second we hit the beach we were in for a seven-minute wonder; any surprise factor was eliminated. But I think I'd have had problems with it anyway. As I was watching it, my mind flashed to earlier such scenes -- the war zone sequence in Children of Men; the post-battle Non Nobis Domine in Henry V; hell, even the Atlanta railroad station in Gone With the Wind. And my recollection was, in each of those cases, I was held not by the bravura of the camera but by the intensity of an action or by the information conveyed: in Children, it was tension over whether Theo and Kee would get where they needed to; in Henry, it was seeing the full extent of the carnage Agincourt had yielded; and in GWTW, it was seeing Scarlett slowly realize how meaningless, in context, were her temporal concerns. In this film, I had no such sense of growing awareness: everything I needed to know about the debacle of Dunkirk was evident in the establishing shot. From there on, it was simply a matter of watching the camera swirl around and show us one disconnected anecdotal pose after another. And all I could really think was how complicated and expensive the whole thing must have been to stage.
And that wasn't even my least favorite shot in the film. That honor falls to the introduction of Briony's corps of nurses, which was shot with such brio and precision I fully expected the group to break out into a musical number. Jesus Christ: just let them walk! It's not that I'm opposed to such attention-grabbing shots on principle (I like Scorsese and Fosse and Anderson, and, as we remember, LOVED Children of Men). I just think Wright uses them for their own sake; not to advance the cinematic story. (It's not like I was down on every choice. I did like the typewriter motif, for instance)
But sometimes -- especially in the opening section -- I felt Wright's styling kept me at a distance from the story. Cecelia and Robbie's scenes at the house seemed too clipped, as if they were more about the pictures Wright was composing than the drama contained therein. Thus, I didn't feel the engagement with the characters' passions I felt reading the novel…and, as a result, only Briony really emerged as a full-bodied human for me in this part of the film.
I also was disappointed in the way Wright staged Robbie's return with the twins. McEwan had described it as occurring just as first light began to appear, which I think would have made a far more appealing image. Second, more important, where was Robbie's sense of joyful triumph? He's saved the day, as far as he's concerned; he should be beaming -- only to then have his life shattered seconds later. The way it's presented, Robbie looks like he knows his goose is cooked from two hundred yards away. You'd almost swear he was guilty.
The Cecelia/Robbie and Briony scenes during the war are more full-bodied; again, I think these 2-3 character scenes are something Wright does well. McAvoy recovers from (for me) his slow start and gives a pretty full performance (culminating in his acid fury at Briony in the apartment). He's borderline as a best actor candidate for me, but wouldn't be undeserving. I don't think Knightley has all that much to do; she's fine, but even less deserving of a lead actress nod than she was last time out (and please, girl: put those 10-15 pounds back on!) I liked all the Briony's, pretty equally…but if I had to choose one to nominate, it'd be Ronan, simply because she has the most dominant role.
I, too, missed the Trials of Arabella play in the last sequence; I looked forward to seeing the family reunited so many years later, and watching the tensions of that long-ago afternoon rekindled (I also would have preferred to ease out of the story, rather than have it end so abruptly). My theory is, Hampton and Wright decided to eliminate all this and focus on the interview because, paradoxically, that changed the emphasis from Briony's writing (and the ambivalence it reflected) to the tragic and swoony romance of Robbie and Cecelia. Consider this subtle change from McEwan -- his aged-Briony never exactly said Robbie and Cecelia DID die; she simply mused over what purpose would be served by putting such a fact in front of her readers (I just re-read the passage last night; it's very artfully ambiguous). McEwan's novel is of course largely about a girl who did a horrible thing and how/whether she could ever atone for it; but it's also about how the writer, with so many options at her disposal, holds ultimate power -- the literal last word (omnipotence on the page compared to impotence in life). The filmmakers strip most of that away; they also downplay young-Briony's pique at her treatment by the cousins -- in the novel, their lack of interest in performing her play seems part of what motivates her vile act. But here, it's her unrequited young-girl crush over Robbie that's to blame. So, Hampton/Wright opt not for McEwan's tonier/more nuanced approach, but rather dive in headfirst to movie-love: giving their lovers a tragic end, their protagonist deserved life-long guilt, and their audience a deeply romantic ending. A little nod to commerce, perhaps?
One thing I don't remember from the novel that I thought was clever: Briony notes how Dunkirk, a disaster by most measures, was somehow being sold as a morale-boosting retrenchment. Am I wrong in thinking this was analogous to Briony's power over the facts of her story?
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Big Magilla
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One thing and another have kept me from seeing this since it opened, but I finally caught up with it.
It's clear that the emotional atttachment people have to the film comes from reading the novel. Not having read it, I can't say that I feel as strongly about it as some of you. Taken purely as film going experience, it reminded me less of The English Patient than The Go-Between, a film I loved but others were less moved by.
On a technical level, the film is strong. Its Oscar prospects are certain. It will definitely be nominated for art direction, cinematography, costume design, sound, score and editing which will likely propel it to a best picture nomination.
I'm not sure about best director. Joe Wright could be the odd man out. As for the performances, I think Saoirse Ronan was the best thing about it, closely followed by James McAvoy, less so Keira Knightley and Romola Garai, and while Vanessa Redgrave was superb in her two minutes or so, I found her less moving than her sister Lynn was nailing the end of Kinsey.
I thought Ronan perfectly captured the confusion of adolescense. Without the heartbreaking vulnerability she brought to the role the character would not have made sense. Besides, she's the Briony that has the most screen time. She is on screen for most of the first fifty minutes and then appears sporadically in flashbacks through the rest of the movie until Redgrave shows up. So, if they have only room for one Briony, she is clearly the one who desrves the nomination.
While McAvoy is perfectly fine, I actually thought this was his second best performance this year. I thought he was even more impressive in Becoming Jane, a film nobody but me apparently saw. As the young law student in love with the budding authoress he displayed the naivite and charm to make the character beleivable as a young man, but he also has the gravitas to convince us that his character would one day become the Chief Justice of Ireland with the chutzpah along the way to insist on naming his first child Jane after his unrequited love. On the strength of both performances be deserves a nomination, though I wouldn't be shocked if he were left off the list. Ditto Knightley.
It's clear that the emotional atttachment people have to the film comes from reading the novel. Not having read it, I can't say that I feel as strongly about it as some of you. Taken purely as film going experience, it reminded me less of The English Patient than The Go-Between, a film I loved but others were less moved by.
On a technical level, the film is strong. Its Oscar prospects are certain. It will definitely be nominated for art direction, cinematography, costume design, sound, score and editing which will likely propel it to a best picture nomination.
I'm not sure about best director. Joe Wright could be the odd man out. As for the performances, I think Saoirse Ronan was the best thing about it, closely followed by James McAvoy, less so Keira Knightley and Romola Garai, and while Vanessa Redgrave was superb in her two minutes or so, I found her less moving than her sister Lynn was nailing the end of Kinsey.
I thought Ronan perfectly captured the confusion of adolescense. Without the heartbreaking vulnerability she brought to the role the character would not have made sense. Besides, she's the Briony that has the most screen time. She is on screen for most of the first fifty minutes and then appears sporadically in flashbacks through the rest of the movie until Redgrave shows up. So, if they have only room for one Briony, she is clearly the one who desrves the nomination.
While McAvoy is perfectly fine, I actually thought this was his second best performance this year. I thought he was even more impressive in Becoming Jane, a film nobody but me apparently saw. As the young law student in love with the budding authoress he displayed the naivite and charm to make the character beleivable as a young man, but he also has the gravitas to convince us that his character would one day become the Chief Justice of Ireland with the chutzpah along the way to insist on naming his first child Jane after his unrequited love. On the strength of both performances be deserves a nomination, though I wouldn't be shocked if he were left off the list. Ditto Knightley.
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ITALIANO wrote:I think it's different. While Brokeback Mountain wasn't probably a perfect movie, still when you read a negative review or a negative comment from an American homosexual, between the lines you could clearly see that he had LOVED it - but couldn't admit it. To himself, even - I'm not saying that he was consciously lying. It was very interesting, and said alot about how (some) American gays still unfortunately perceives themselves - and homosexuality.
Italiano: I'm planning on going to Europe next year for two weeks, either Spain or Italy. If I opt for the latter, can you promise to let me stay with you? I've never fucked a native Italian.
Joe Wright was able to honor Ian McEwan's novel while adding his own unique flourishes to an already powerful story. The dual perspectives of key sequences, the retro-fitting of the ending without losing its powerful punch, and using the typewriter as an instrument of score were all fine choices that didn't distract from the story. The Original BJ is right in pointing out that McEwan hits all the important beats without losing the essential literary fervor of the novel. Besides exploring the themes of guilt and penance, this is essentially a story about how to tell a story, reliable and unreliable narrators, the repetition of history -- it's not the easiest story to tell on film and I think that Wright directed as faithful an adaptation as he possibly could have.
The only thing that was changed about the ending was setting Briony's revelation in an interview-style scenario rather than through interior, first-person monologue set against a party thrown for her by relatives and, at long last, the performance of "The Trials of Arabella", a scene I've always thought tied the entire story together so wonderfully. Her revelations remain one of the most surprising punches in a novel I've ever read.
James McAvoy practically stole the entire movie for me, although, uniformly, the entire ensemble is very strong. From the casting of the main players, to the wonderful Gina McKee as Sister Drummond down to the Quincey children, everyone was pitch-perfect. (And Penelope, you didn't say that Jérémie Renier was in it! Hot!) If McAvoy doesn’t get nominated for this performance, there's seriously something wrong with the Academy. He played Robbie with such longing and heartbreak, it's just a beautiful performance (made all the more poignant by that revealing coda). His expressive, blue, doe-eyes filling with tears was such an evocative thing to behold. He infused an already sympathetic character with such a rich history, the audience could draw from it with just one of his looks. It's really a wonderful performance. And, my lord, did he look hot
I thought Keira Knightley's performance as Cecilia was metered and refined. Her invocation of the "come back to me" mantra as her throughline was haunting. She managed to make it work in a variety of different contexts, each time giving it a different meaning. Slight, wispy and moody in the beginning, tortured and bereft in her scenes with Robbie, she played Cecilia very well, especially in that last scene with Romola Garai.
Vanessa Redgrave was simply transcendent in her scene. She conveyed the toll a lifetime of atoning has taken on Briony, carrying the guilt of what she's done around like a heavy sack grafted onto her body. In that plain shift of a dress and her hair starkly pinned to the side as she's always worn it, her interview is perfectly executed and truly devastating. I think she definitely deserves a nomination for this.
One of the things that hinders the film's elevation to masterpiece status is the lack of connection of the second section and this might be more of a problem with the novel itself. I think we can all agree that the "Robbie at war" section doesn't have the strongest connection to the what has previously occurred. And the way the film transitioned from Robbie being carted off to jail to Robbie at war was more jolting than it had been in the novel, although I'm not sure there's a better way to segue into it. At times, it does feel a bit like a pastiche of any number of war movies I've seen (and I don't recall the one hundred dead children from the novel), yet the director misses out on several powerful scenes that make Part II of the novel work. For example, as again BJ has suggested, the image of the severed leg in the tree. Such an evocative image. Then, the rescue of the man in the bar, which is one of the most revealing scenes of what kind of a person Robbie is. This scene is replaced by him seeing a movie in the basement? The section is saved by the powerful flashback to Robbie and Keira's reunion in London as well as McAvoy's performance, but the war scenes never feel organically tied to the rest of the story in the way that the hospital scenes and the Balham boardinghouse scene do later on in the film. To me, it almost seems like the writer Briony had researched what war was like and plugged the scenes into her novel without truly making it work.
Depending on how the Academy responds, I can see nominations for Picture, Director, Score, Screenplay, Cinematography, Costume, Editing, as well as anywhere from one to four acting nominations.
Edited By flipp525 on 1197472271
The only thing that was changed about the ending was setting Briony's revelation in an interview-style scenario rather than through interior, first-person monologue set against a party thrown for her by relatives and, at long last, the performance of "The Trials of Arabella", a scene I've always thought tied the entire story together so wonderfully. Her revelations remain one of the most surprising punches in a novel I've ever read.
James McAvoy practically stole the entire movie for me, although, uniformly, the entire ensemble is very strong. From the casting of the main players, to the wonderful Gina McKee as Sister Drummond down to the Quincey children, everyone was pitch-perfect. (And Penelope, you didn't say that Jérémie Renier was in it! Hot!) If McAvoy doesn’t get nominated for this performance, there's seriously something wrong with the Academy. He played Robbie with such longing and heartbreak, it's just a beautiful performance (made all the more poignant by that revealing coda). His expressive, blue, doe-eyes filling with tears was such an evocative thing to behold. He infused an already sympathetic character with such a rich history, the audience could draw from it with just one of his looks. It's really a wonderful performance. And, my lord, did he look hot
I thought Keira Knightley's performance as Cecilia was metered and refined. Her invocation of the "come back to me" mantra as her throughline was haunting. She managed to make it work in a variety of different contexts, each time giving it a different meaning. Slight, wispy and moody in the beginning, tortured and bereft in her scenes with Robbie, she played Cecilia very well, especially in that last scene with Romola Garai.
Vanessa Redgrave was simply transcendent in her scene. She conveyed the toll a lifetime of atoning has taken on Briony, carrying the guilt of what she's done around like a heavy sack grafted onto her body. In that plain shift of a dress and her hair starkly pinned to the side as she's always worn it, her interview is perfectly executed and truly devastating. I think she definitely deserves a nomination for this.
One of the things that hinders the film's elevation to masterpiece status is the lack of connection of the second section and this might be more of a problem with the novel itself. I think we can all agree that the "Robbie at war" section doesn't have the strongest connection to the what has previously occurred. And the way the film transitioned from Robbie being carted off to jail to Robbie at war was more jolting than it had been in the novel, although I'm not sure there's a better way to segue into it. At times, it does feel a bit like a pastiche of any number of war movies I've seen (and I don't recall the one hundred dead children from the novel), yet the director misses out on several powerful scenes that make Part II of the novel work. For example, as again BJ has suggested, the image of the severed leg in the tree. Such an evocative image. Then, the rescue of the man in the bar, which is one of the most revealing scenes of what kind of a person Robbie is. This scene is replaced by him seeing a movie in the basement? The section is saved by the powerful flashback to Robbie and Keira's reunion in London as well as McAvoy's performance, but the war scenes never feel organically tied to the rest of the story in the way that the hospital scenes and the Balham boardinghouse scene do later on in the film. To me, it almost seems like the writer Briony had researched what war was like and plugged the scenes into her novel without truly making it work.
Depending on how the Academy responds, I can see nominations for Picture, Director, Score, Screenplay, Cinematography, Costume, Editing, as well as anywhere from one to four acting nominations.
Edited By flipp525 on 1197472271
"The mantle of spinsterhood was definitely in her shoulders. She was twenty five and looked it."
-Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
-Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
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FilmFan720
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- Joined: Thu Jan 02, 2003 3:57 pm
- Location: Illinois
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FilmFan720
- Emeritus
- Posts: 3650
- Joined: Thu Jan 02, 2003 3:57 pm
- Location: Illinois