Dearest Blog: Awards Season means sacrifices.
Anyone who suffered through Boyhood can tell you that. Thus, yesterday I found myself at the icky cinema where my feet stick to the floor and the toilets never work to catch Brooklyn before Star Wars chases it out of town for good.
Spoiler level here will be mild, probably nothing you wouldn't know from the trailers if you've seen any, which I haven't.
A young Irish girl seeks opportunity in 1950s Brooklyn.
A list of the sort of films I most despise would look something like this:
1.) Movies about women;
2.) Movies for women;
3.) Movies by women;
4.) Movies about romance;
5.) Movies where nothing blows up.
Brooklyn is most of those things, but, somehow, I liked it anyway.
Brooklyn manages to tell its love story sans the manufactured angst that dumbs down most romances to a Nicholas Sparks level.
The movie is an effective reminder of a time when going away meant *really* being apart from everyone and everything you knew and loved...no Facebook or Skype for keeping up with the folks back home. The heartache is palpable, as is the joy at finding that special someone that turns a new place into "home."
Sincere, engaging performances by Saoirse Ronan and Emory Cohen, and fantastic supporting turns by Julie Walters and Jim Broadbent, make it easy to see why this little love story is considered one of the year's best pictures.
Brooklyn clocks in at 111 minutes and is rated PG13 for "a scene of sexuality and brief strong language."
A romance that could make me forget I hate romances, Brooklyn is a wonder to behold.
Of a possible nine Weasleys, Brooklyn gets seven and a half.
Until next time...
