The Perfect Film.

I could neither read nor make a post tonight because I’d just watched a film which pushed me slightly off the rails. It was called Never Let Me Go, based on the novel by Kazuo Ishiguro. No histrionics, no overcooked melodrama, no action packed sequences, no violence, no gratuitous sex scenes – just a poignant, beautifully presented observation of life, death and the vibrant emotions which rise and fall and shiver in the gaps. And all so deservedly understated. I failed to find a single fault with any aspect of the production.

It was about three childhood friends whose lives are destined to be short and they’re aware of the fact. I like threes and I’m no stranger to a heightened perception of mortality, so maybe that made a difference.

Nevertheless, those who know the film will not be surprised that I fell in love with Cathy. I’m sure I was supposed to. Those who know me will not be surprised that I understood Ruth’s guilt and Tommy’s rage because I’ve been there. Those who don’t know the film, and have a heart to call their own, might be well advised to watch it.