When I picked it off the shelf I had high hopes for this
film. I like the two stars and the synopsis suggested the potential for
something moving, meaningful and subtly humorous. What I’d seen by the half way
point was too loud, too brash, too superficial, too predictable, too overheated;
in short, too Hollywood. I found it cheap and about as compelling as wet
candyfloss.
Scarlett Johansson was wasted as an empty-headed creature
merely bored, pretty and nothing much else, and Bill Murray played the older
man with what for me is the poorer side of his professional range. The
direction was little better than soap standard, the script was verging on the
incoherent at times, and the only funny character was Murray’s wife who we never
even see except through the faxes and letters she sends from the good ol’ US of
A. And please strike Tokyo
from my earlier post. The cold mountains of Nepal would probably suit me better
after all.
Maybe the second half is better, but once the tone is set…
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