With a cast like this, I wondered how Richard E. Grant could possibly go wrong. But dare I say that in directing his own life story he has been unable to transform his reality into a story that has some appeal for anyone other than himself. This is self-aggrandising film-making at its worst. How are we supposed to care about a bunch of childish, adulterous, slave-driving colonials? I ended up feeling much more sympathy for Regina, the family's African maid, and she doesn't even have any lines!
It's hopelessly melodramatic. So much door-slamming and so many jarring outbursts. Whenever Grant seems to want to inject some high drama, he simply arranges for one of the key relationships in the film to dissolve - and it seems to happen every three or four minutes: break-up after break-up.
Nothing is understated at all. Yes, Richard, these things may have REALLY happened, but you haven't been able to make them convincing or meaningful on the big screen. You can't even make us care for the characters played by such wonderful actresses. How does a character played by the sublime Miranda Richardson manage to come off as completely one-dimensional and unsympathetic? Emily Watson is probably the best working actress in the world but she's so far above this material that her presence only serves to remind viewers that this could have been a good film. And were we supposed to care when Ralph's father dies? What did he ever do for anyone? To me he only seemed to be the bane of Ralph's existence.
I guess a large part of the problem lies in the fact that the characters seem not to have any psychology, other than the most surface motivations. Ralph, being the main character, is particularly empty, despite Nicholas Hoult's best efforts. Yes he has a facial tic when he's tense, but what's driving him? Is it that he wants to be a Droog? I don't think so.
The troubles that hampered the production of this film are written all over the screen. Patrick Doyle has written a beautiful score, but it doesn't seem to have been written for this movie. And far too often the editor relies on fades to black to generate emotional tension - and it doesn't work. The camera work is equally ambiguous. What does that last shot leave us with other than a sense of how pretty the countryside is?
What really brings the film down, however, is the fact that Richard E. Grant doesn't seem to know what he wants to say with this film. Why did he want to make the film, other than as a tribute to himself? Yes, it's a coming-of-age story. Yes, it's about the English in Swaziland. But what does it all ultimately mean? To me, I'm afraid, Ruby's description of English toff-talk as 'wah-wah' seems to be a fitting description of the film as a whole: appearing important on the surface, but ultimately meaningless.
It's hopelessly melodramatic. So much door-slamming and so many jarring outbursts. Whenever Grant seems to want to inject some high drama, he simply arranges for one of the key relationships in the film to dissolve - and it seems to happen every three or four minutes: break-up after break-up.
Nothing is understated at all. Yes, Richard, these things may have REALLY happened, but you haven't been able to make them convincing or meaningful on the big screen. You can't even make us care for the characters played by such wonderful actresses. How does a character played by the sublime Miranda Richardson manage to come off as completely one-dimensional and unsympathetic? Emily Watson is probably the best working actress in the world but she's so far above this material that her presence only serves to remind viewers that this could have been a good film. And were we supposed to care when Ralph's father dies? What did he ever do for anyone? To me he only seemed to be the bane of Ralph's existence.
I guess a large part of the problem lies in the fact that the characters seem not to have any psychology, other than the most surface motivations. Ralph, being the main character, is particularly empty, despite Nicholas Hoult's best efforts. Yes he has a facial tic when he's tense, but what's driving him? Is it that he wants to be a Droog? I don't think so.
The troubles that hampered the production of this film are written all over the screen. Patrick Doyle has written a beautiful score, but it doesn't seem to have been written for this movie. And far too often the editor relies on fades to black to generate emotional tension - and it doesn't work. The camera work is equally ambiguous. What does that last shot leave us with other than a sense of how pretty the countryside is?
What really brings the film down, however, is the fact that Richard E. Grant doesn't seem to know what he wants to say with this film. Why did he want to make the film, other than as a tribute to himself? Yes, it's a coming-of-age story. Yes, it's about the English in Swaziland. But what does it all ultimately mean? To me, I'm afraid, Ruby's description of English toff-talk as 'wah-wah' seems to be a fitting description of the film as a whole: appearing important on the surface, but ultimately meaningless.