What a strange film this is.
Fab cast – Ralph Fiennes and the drop dead gorgeous Tilda Swinton.
Clothes to die for. Well, Ms Swinton’s at any rate. Her 1940s and 1950s Dior-designed look is too, too fabulous and she was a visual joy. Those backless dresses are simply stunning.
But as for the film overall…well, it always seems to be on the brink of delivering some huge drama, what with all that slightly faded retro look to the cinematography, and the dusty winds whipping across the scrubby landscape. It kept feeling as though Something Significant Was Happening. But I never quite knew what it was.
I didn’t, for example, get the point of the super elegant slightly older French lady and her younger trout-pout-y companion (daughter?). I never quite fathomed what they were doing, nor what their point was in furthering the narrative.
I didn’t really like the buffoonish characterisation of the local carabinieri, and the autograph scene was beyond weird. That was a moment which I thought Must Be Very Significant. But on reflection, it might just have been rather silly.
I did like the look of the film, though it was all a tad too languorous and l-o-n-g-d-r-a-w-n out.
Yes, be honest, not sure I fully understood the plot, but neither did my two companions, which was reassuring.
But Ms Swinton was brilliant, hardly talking at all, because her ageing rockstar character has an injured throat, but yet communicating stunningly, without ever really speaking.
Ralph Fiennes was fun as an irritating motor mouth.
Can’t decide if I’m getting prudish in my old age, but there seemed to be loads and loads of superfluous full frontal nudity. We got it, first time round – hot, Mediterranean, old lovers, tension, passion. No need for Mr. Fiennes to strip off every time he dived into the pool.