I didn't love Eisenberg's directing style.
But everything else works great.
The setting is wonderful (Poland is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been).
The choice of doing a just-Chopin score is wonderful, if not a bit of an obvious choice.
But the screenplay and the performances here all really work. The title says it all.
We all have real pain. We all express it and process it differently.
I, rather unfairly, avoided this movie and derided it for 15 years. I dismissed it as a "chick flick", and assumed I would dislike it because I didn't like "chick flicks".
That was close-minded of me, as well as sexist. I have since grown more open-minded, and decided to give this a shot since it seems to have held onto the zeitgeist for a decade and a half.
It turns out that I *do* hate this movie, although not for…
This was a *huge* favorite of 8 year old me.
Watching now is a bit like having an out of body experience. It's not even remotely the same movie that lives in my brain. Why is everyone so wooden? Why is it so lame? Why do the effects look so abysmal?
Why is Hurt so miserable? Why is Chabert's hair so wet at all times?
I have nothing but questions.
Blarp makes Jar Jar look like the damn statue of David.
I still can't really hate this though. 8 year old me is still in here somewhere.
