With a who's who cast of fine British actors (Maggie Smith, Alan Bates, Helen Mirren et al), and Robert Altman at the helm, the portents seemed good. The presence of Emily Watson was also a major factor ('Breaking The Waves' -for me, one of the saddest, most beautiful and most brilliant pieces of cinema ever).
I'd heard this was maybe a little above the usual English country house period drama fodder. Indeed, the start was impressively done, as you get sucked into the world as it was in the 1930's and the way the extended family suckle at the fat belly of Sir William McCordle (played by Michael Gambon). Upon his death, it's rather stultifying to witness the calmness, almost warm wave of apathy that seems to infuse most of the gathering. Unfortunately, this lack of emotion from the characters infected me as well.
It's sometimes difficult with such a large cast simply remembering who is who and how they interrelate with each other. To overcome this, it helps if there is enough depth to encourage repeat viewings. Unfortunately, it takes so long for anything beyond character development and scene setting to occur, that repeat viewings are (for me anyway) unlikely. The volume of characters and their equality in terms of importance unfortunately renders the viewer's relationship with even the most interesting ones - such as Robert Parks (Clive Owen) and Mrs Wilson, The Housekeeper (Helen Mirren) - not necessarily intimate enough to generate any real feeling when their denouement comes.
The absolute nadir of the movie is the atrocious Inspector Thompson (portrayed by Stephen Fry), such a ridiculous unbelievable caricature of an incompetent 1930's Detective that by his appearance he sucks out all seriousness and believability from the final third of the story. Handling unfingerprinted decanters? Ignoring clues found by enterprising Constables? You betcha. Thankfully the good points - the performances of Emily Watson, Maggie Smith and Richard E Grant, the articulation of the class differences and arrogance of the upper-classes - balance this somewhat. Unfortunately, for me, this was still a bit of a sows ear made from a silk purse.
I'd heard this was maybe a little above the usual English country house period drama fodder. Indeed, the start was impressively done, as you get sucked into the world as it was in the 1930's and the way the extended family suckle at the fat belly of Sir William McCordle (played by Michael Gambon). Upon his death, it's rather stultifying to witness the calmness, almost warm wave of apathy that seems to infuse most of the gathering. Unfortunately, this lack of emotion from the characters infected me as well.
It's sometimes difficult with such a large cast simply remembering who is who and how they interrelate with each other. To overcome this, it helps if there is enough depth to encourage repeat viewings. Unfortunately, it takes so long for anything beyond character development and scene setting to occur, that repeat viewings are (for me anyway) unlikely. The volume of characters and their equality in terms of importance unfortunately renders the viewer's relationship with even the most interesting ones - such as Robert Parks (Clive Owen) and Mrs Wilson, The Housekeeper (Helen Mirren) - not necessarily intimate enough to generate any real feeling when their denouement comes.
The absolute nadir of the movie is the atrocious Inspector Thompson (portrayed by Stephen Fry), such a ridiculous unbelievable caricature of an incompetent 1930's Detective that by his appearance he sucks out all seriousness and believability from the final third of the story. Handling unfingerprinted decanters? Ignoring clues found by enterprising Constables? You betcha. Thankfully the good points - the performances of Emily Watson, Maggie Smith and Richard E Grant, the articulation of the class differences and arrogance of the upper-classes - balance this somewhat. Unfortunately, for me, this was still a bit of a sows ear made from a silk purse.
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