Reviews

French cinema used to enjoy a worldwide reputation for intelligent, complex films which cast a shadow over the trite banality of everyday life. Resnais, truffaut, Chabrol, Godard and a host of antecedent greats made french cinema a world leader. That tradition was taken forward by Tavernier but stops stone dead with this frockhorror.

It languishes in its own importance, smug about its many filmic references, pleased that it is a film that looks like a play (the Mousetrap with music), but with all the substance of candy floss.

The question I came out asking is why did so many otherwise excellent and discerning actresses agree to take part in something that will diminish not enhance their collective reputations. This tried to be clever and sophisticatedly knowing and simply did not work. Don't bother going.

the only saving grace of this movie was the intelligent and restrained playing of the children in it. The film is a cross between "Under Milk Wood" and "Mary Poppins" (before flight), and contains just about every stereotype imaginable. The acting of the adults was stiff and wooden and, like "Clochemerle" many years ago, would have been better on the TV. Don't waste your money

Attention all those of a scientific bent. Two new instruments (the vacuometer and the salometer)have been invented AS WE SPEAK, precisely to measure the depth of shallowness and vacuity throughout this film. Unfortunately both instruments needed instant recalibration since both stopped well before they had plumbed the bottom of this truly awful movie.

Since when does it snow in London (or was it set in Inverness?) at Christmas or any other time? Since when has the view of the british been typified as the smart frothily empty world of publishing (since the last Richard Curtis inspired film do I hear you say?)? Since when does an "English rose with attitude" get protrayed by an American actress (however good her voice coach made her)?

This was a completely awful film, so it had to contain Lord Archer (a month before his perjury trial )and the pompadour of pomposity Salman Rushdie. Come back Women's Realm, all is forgiven.

The film seems to move effortlessly beyond the satirical, to the places where real pain and vulnerability lurk. The central image was not, for me, the beautiful film (NOTE the fictionality and artefact) of the bag blowing. it was the image of catatonic stillness, the silent despair of Mrs Fitts sitting (not swirling) at her dining room table and subsequently woodenly saying goodbye to her son. I was amazed and astounded by it all. One thing though that discomforts me. So much of the time Annette Bening had the verbal and facial mannerisms of Shirley McLaine. What's that all about Warren?

what a shame that such an important story about the triumph of ordinary people over the international commercial behemoth was reduced to such a tawdry, trite and cliche- ridden piece of nonsense. While Albert Finney showed glimpses of his quality, the rest was a wooden ensemble rendering the kiss of death to what sounds like a great story.This is a classic example of commercial overhype. No character development; a paper cut out strong woman, gentle man scenario. the creepy voice down the phone that goes nowhere; the jealous office minions. Please, film goers should not be insulted by such schlock.

I had my arm twisted to go and see this and was knocked out by the unsentimental acting of the two central young characters (Gavin and Romeo), as well as the brilliant accuracy of the dialogue (uncertain, banal and lyrical portrayals of tenderness and callousness coexisting wonderfully well). But I want to take this opportunity to talk about the cinema in which I saw it. The Plaza Community cinema in Crosby is absolutely brilliant for showing this film. it is run by a highly dedicated group of volunteers, whose leader (Janet) saved the cinema almost single handed from the ravages of the developers. It shows a great variety of films and is the nearest thing Merseyside gets to the Cornerhouse in Manchester. keep up the good work Janet.