I am at a loss as to what to say about this movie. I feel like an old man with a blinded in the headlight stare. No, that's not it. I feel like I'm stuck in a middle-age rut. No, that's not it either. I feel like my ficus plant has died and it's not my fault. No? How about this: My dad treated me terribly, but at least he didn't completely abandon me like my mom. My sister is a liar who needs a good chewing out. My brother is a self-absorbed slob. My girlfriend's visa has expired. My cat is stuck under the couch. My dog is getting old. Sex has lost all excitement.
I was forewarned that this film would be depressing, but even a sad film, if it brings you to tears or thoughts too deep for tears, can have merit. But this one never did it for me. For a better institution film, see Diving Bell and the Butterfly. For better old age moments, see Albert Finney in Before the Devil Knows You're Dead. For a better father-daughter movie, see Sweeney Todd. And if death and dying is your thing, check out No Country for Old Men.
I was also lured in on the premise that at least this film would have good acting. Except that it didn't, really. Phillip Seymour Hoffman, consistently a good chameleon actor, was better this year in both Charlie Wilson's War and Before the Devil; he made the most of a couple of scenes in this film, but overall he never really got to show the full shades of his character. Meanwhile, Laura Linney's performance was only slightly less shallow than the way her character was written: one should have plenty to work with in a pill-popping, confidence-lacking, lonely hearted guilt-ridden daughter/sister/mistress, but between the writing and the acting her character was still pretty sketchy.
Finally, the director chose a plodding pace to get us to the inevitable end. All right, I did not really expect the final final ending, but that was still a small payoff for a long movie.
I was forewarned that this film would be depressing, but even a sad film, if it brings you to tears or thoughts too deep for tears, can have merit. But this one never did it for me. For a better institution film, see Diving Bell and the Butterfly. For better old age moments, see Albert Finney in Before the Devil Knows You're Dead. For a better father-daughter movie, see Sweeney Todd. And if death and dying is your thing, check out No Country for Old Men.
I was also lured in on the premise that at least this film would have good acting. Except that it didn't, really. Phillip Seymour Hoffman, consistently a good chameleon actor, was better this year in both Charlie Wilson's War and Before the Devil; he made the most of a couple of scenes in this film, but overall he never really got to show the full shades of his character. Meanwhile, Laura Linney's performance was only slightly less shallow than the way her character was written: one should have plenty to work with in a pill-popping, confidence-lacking, lonely hearted guilt-ridden daughter/sister/mistress, but between the writing and the acting her character was still pretty sketchy.
Finally, the director chose a plodding pace to get us to the inevitable end. All right, I did not really expect the final final ending, but that was still a small payoff for a long movie.