I had skimmed the wikipedia article and knew the basics were “crappy home life, get sent off to a relative for a bit and have first experience of a loving home, have to go back, runs into arms of the leaving relative” and that it won lots of awards.
So I might like it, and even if I don’t find it very good, it will probably still be affecting because I had an abusive childhood.
So yesterday I watched the first ten minutes and stopped, thinking “this is shameless Oscar bait”. Not that they were aiming primarily for Oscars because it’s not an American film, but you know what I mean.
Today I watched twelve more minutes, thinking “they don’t have a handle on any of this material”. I want to think they meant well, but listen to that music — that’s Oscar bait music.
Since I am watching with subtitles, this means I can speed it way, way up to get through the rest. Read the text as everyone zips about.
The people in the films are on dairy farms, and I know that life. There was this whole thing where the man is distant because they had a son who fell into the you don’t want to know and died and the man is still messed up from that. That doesn’t ring true for me. Deaths and maimings are familiar enough to farmers. Death is just around you.
She was a little old for I’m giving you a bath and I’m giving you lots of praise about how fast you run and…and…what was the third thing? Well, anyway.
In the end, she has to go home. They take her home, sit briefly, go. She runs off down the path with the music all going to tell you what to feel because this is supposed to connect with how she and the man connected over having her run earlier, gag, and now into the guy’s arms. They embrace, the lady’s in the car weeping. Here comes the dad, looking like trouble.
I hope the film people at least meant well. I hope making an Oscar bait movie was just a price to pay, to have won all of those prizes to gain the power to make something more authentic next time. I hope wherever money comes from to make films in Ireland isn’t as stupid as Hollywood is and doesn’t require that behavior, but the US swallows the world.
Having had the abusive childhood, as I said, I pavlovianly got teary-eyed 1. when the car got to the nice people’s house and the nice smiling lady opened the car door and smiled in at the girl 2. at the sappy hugging bit at the end. 3. just now when remembering the smiling lady, whatever a caricature it all was.