I've loved Ewan McGregor since watching him in God like genus Dennis Potter's English TV movie, "Lipstick On Her Collar" back in 1993 and have found him the best thing in even badly cast stuff like Star Wars.
But this is where I draw the line.
As the son in Mike Mills -who did the OK "Thumb sucker", movie about a father who comes out of the closet at the age of 75, and dies four years later, I just want to punch the miserable, smug bastard in the face. Plummer won an Oscar for his role, and is very good though he probably won the award mostly because he is 86 years olds. But Ewan? Just awful.
You might think this has something to say about homosexuality, but it doesn't. If you need to be told it was safer for homosexuals to remain closeted in the 1950s, you haven't been paying intention. And if they have made McGregor a bigot, anti-gay, you might have had an interesting conflict. But Ewan loves gay, and his dad, and his Mom. What is the sniveling shits problem?
It's a memory story, the introverted Oliver is mourning the death of his father, the final four years of their relationship told in flashback. While in deep solace, he meets a knockout French actress who says, er, writes he has sad eyes. Plus Plumber's dog is hanging round.
Plus, the girl, French actress Melanie Laurent is so spiritual it is repulsive. She says stuff like "The people in the building opposite and having lives as well…" What dribble. What nonsense. There is nothing much to do but sit around waiting for McGregor to get over it.
The music s pretty good. Some awesome Jelly Roll Morton, obscure Barclay James Harvest and Beethoven thrown in for good measure.
Movie: B
Music: A-