Based
on the novel by British author Blake Morrison, the story unfolds in the
unhurried, not especially cinematic manner of a movie striving for fidelity to
its literary source. There are many flashbacks to childhood and adolescence,
but nothing relating to Blake’s ascent as a prize-winning poet. Dad is still
nagging Blake, still playing the unstoppable force of nature, on the day the
odd pains send him to the hospital and, afterward, on the final journey home.
Dad,
played by the marvelously expressive Jim Broadbent, was always a man who took
great glee in scoffing at laws, bending the rules, driving just over the limit
and parking in restricted zones. Through Blake’s boyhood, another woman hovered
at the edge of his parents’ marriage. Irrepressibly and sometimes
embarrassingly gregarious, dad never understood his introverted son, nose
always in a book when he wasn’t making awkward advances on the Scottish servant
girl, his first love. The ember sparks anew, at least in the grate of Blake’s
heart, when he returns home to stand the deathwatch over dad.
Colin
Firth is well cast as the adult Blake, perennially dour and unable to express
his emotions without the aid of pen and paper. The problems between Blake and
his dad, between mom and dad, and the unresolved emotions Blake still feels
from his adolescent love even in the midst of his own relatively content
marriage, are never resolved. As often happens in life, ambivalence and
irresolution hold the field. Nothing is entirely settled except the end of life
itself.
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