If a film deals with a powerful, emotive or disturbing subject it does not, by definition, mean that the film will be any good. Take last week's The Vow, for example. A potentially moving subject (that of a woman trying to fall in love with her husband again) which was treated with all the sensitivity and skill of a toilet brush. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close deals with the September 11th attacks and the grief of a young boy who lost his father. I'd love to say that it does so in a powerful and genuine way but I'm afraid that if I did, it would be like saying Titanic is one of the best films ever made: it's simply not true.
Directed by Stephen Daldry (Billy Elliot and The Reader), Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close sees nine-year-old Oskar (Thomas Horn) begin a quest to search the whole of New York for the lock to a key which his father left behind after he died in the World Trade Center on 9/11. His search leads him on a journey of self-discovery, allowing him to sustain his last link with his father and deal with his existential grief and...hang on! Sounds like I'm writing the film's press notes. This is what the producers would like you to think but, in reality, the film doesn't live up to its ambitions. Firstly, the film is half-an-hour too long (it's just under two hours, ten minutes) and lurches along at a pace which would rival your grandma's mobility scooter. The film is unashamedly emotionally-manipulative and throws sentiment at the audience like it's going out of fashion. Now, I'm all in favour of a bit of cinematic manipulation (after all, comedies manipulate you to laugh) but when it's done with as much tact and diplomacy as a visit to China by Prince Philip, it becomes grating and annoying.
There are, however, some fantastic performances, especially from Horn who plays the mildly-autistic Oskar with great energy and drive, something not often seen in actors of his age. His character did get mildly-annoying and was, at times, difficult to empathise with but, on the whole Horn carried it through. Tom Hanks stars as Oskar's father and Sandra Bullock gives a very emotionally-charged performance as his mother. Bullock has really matured and grown as an actress in recent years (her performance in Crash is a personal favourite) and her portrayal of a grief-stricken mother, struggling to deal with the loss of her husband and a challenging son, is first-class. The Clapperboard award for Best Actress, however, has to go to Viola Davis (The Help) who, despite only being on-screen for around fifteen minutes, steals the film. Her seismic on-screen presence is a joy to watch and she, for my money, is the Adele of the film world...just without the voice. The film's cinematography was very striking and crisp, with a perfect balance between Oskar's claustrophobic, isolated feelings and the wide scale of the city.
Having just blasted the film's overt-sentimentality, I have to say that a few – and only a few, mind you – of the ideas and concepts explored within the film were genuinely touching. An exchange between Oskar and his mother (which comes towards the end of the film) was, without giving anything away, very moving and you could have cut the atmosphere in Screen 4 with a knife (had two elderly women remembered to turn their hearing aids on so they didn't have to shout at one another throughout the film). Oskar's attempt to prolong his 'last eight minutes' with his father through embarking on his lock-finding quest was also an interesting idea but, in the end, the film's length and lack of real drive let it down.
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is neither a masterpiece nor a failure. It clearly knows what it wants to be but, ultimately, leaves you cold and becomes too wound-up with sentiment to become an engaging and dynamic piece of work. To return to my opening thoughts, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is not damaged by its dealing with one of the worst terrorist attacks in history but its attempt at addressing the issue does not give it any special merit or make the film any more effective. Mr Daldry, I'm afraid it's not enough to hide behind powerful subject matter. Sorry.
Clapperboard Rating: * *
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