Saturday, January 12, 2008
I went on a movie date with la madre last night. I really wanted to see Juno, but I wasn't sure if she would enjoy the humor, so I suggested Atonement. "It's a love story," I explained when I tried to sell the idea. Honestly, that was about all I knew about the film. I haven't read Ian McEwan's novel of the same name, and I haven't kept up with much of the films this awards season.
Well, Atonement is a little more complicated than that, and last night I learned just how many times I can stand to see a certain four letter word that starts with a C in the presence of my mother. (The answer is none, but the movie kind of decided that five or six c-bombs would do.)
Keira Knightley is suitable (and impossibly thin, really) as the upper crust Cecilia, but I have to agree with my film buff friend who says she’d like to wait and see a few more good roles before Knightley wins an Oscar. James McAvoy gives a brilliantly measured and refined performance as the falsely accused gardener’s son/Cecilia’s love interest, Robbie Turner, but oddly enough, it was the film's scenes of World War II that stuck with me moreso than the star-crossed love story.
I think Director Joe Wright captured the devastating scale of a war torn Europe as best we can in 2008. I know I think too much, but it would be one thing to view these images in a hindsight of ‘we know better and therefore we do better.’ At a time when pulling out of Iraq has turned into an “indefinite occupation” for so many presidential candidates' platforms, I’m not sure if that’s true.