Didn't have very high hopes for this but I was slightly overwhelmed by how bloody delightful this is. Plot-wise the film is hopelessly silly, but stylistically it epitomises the British swinging sixties in a way that's only matched by Lester's 'A Hard Day's Night'. Toe-curlingly racist at times in its stereotypes (how high was their budget for dried dates?), it's a very dated film but the cinematography is the funkiest I have ever seen. Just a hoot, and then there's Sophia Lorna looking as if she were ready to devour Gregory Peck with her eyes. Girl, I get you.
"Be good. But not too good, not perfect."
Although my self-destruction took different forms, I found this film... not necessarily relatable, but ballsy. It felt pretty authentic, which it a feat for a film about something so deeply personal. When you live through something so obsessively internalised, it's rare to accept another person's point of view as being similar to your own, or at least it was for me. I don't know if it's a defence mechanism, or a strange…
What a shitfest. I would probably have liked this film better if it had been about a cat. Or, hell, even about that goose that walks around on the farm at the beginning of this film. That was a great goose.
For a film called 'War Horse', it takes a long time for the 'war'-element to enter, so for the first 50 minutes, it's mainly 'horse' - and I happened to skip the horse part in my coming of age.…
Do you judge the film, or the book? I tried to judge the film on its own merit, but kind of failed. I suppose the good news is, the film in better than the book.
I'm not going to lie, I looked forward to seeing this - how often do you see a book by a woman about a woman, adapted for the screen by a woman, and then directed by a woman. When the director is Sam Taylor-Johnson, I'm…