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hyped garbage

Absolutely the worst movie.

Exactly the movie you think it is, but not the movie you want it to be.

True to its essence, the characters remain on the same line and manage to entertain the viewer, each highlighting their own distinctive qualities or touches.

Alan Rickman plays a jaded publisher meeting a past flame (Emma Thompson) at an old haunt, now impersonally renovated. The publisher has a one-track mind and views her every move as erotic.This is a dramatised narrative poem. I'm sceptical about modern poetry but this one's quite good. It may be familiar ground but a lot of the phrases are actually quite good: consciously poetic but a concise description. Fans of Alan Rickman might find it hard to control himself as his character is aroused by everything: a squeezed hand, a glass of wine meeting his lips, a comely waitress, even a pepper shaker. The story is told through his perspective, much of it as voice-over. The switch between voice-over and dialogue really works, creating tension and drama in what is a fairly undramatic scene. It's like a short play.Both Rickman and Thompson speak the blank verse (with the occasional rhyme) very naturally. Their characters are intellectual people and the talk comes naturally to them, particularly Rickman's emotionally/creatively/sexually frustrated character.It's only 50 minutes so it's worth a watch. It would have been nice if it were part of a series of poems.

It hasn't come to my knowledge yet that this short movie is acted out of a poem, and I have no interest in contemporary poems to go take a peek in the book. But I gotta say, I've read a lot of negative reviews here and I wonder why. But art is controversial, that's for sure.This piece of work is beautiful, peaceful in a sense, and has a lot of emotion. Which is something mainstream movies nowadays are not aiming at anymore. Just old people back flashed their old lives. Just an old man being nostalgic in an old place and haven't been able to move on since he lost the love of his life. Now that's an POV because from her point of view maybe the story will be totally reversed and he will appeared as an arse, which I don't really care. Some has mentioned how the feeling is so horrible it almost haunted me, I was so scared when I was watching him getting drunk and I know almost right away what's gonna happen. Just old and typical stuff, nothing new, so true, so real. And people move on like that. But I understand the feeling constantly, even though I'm not that old, but that feeling of loss I do bring. I have watched this and then listened to it again and it made me feel very, very bitter hearing Alan's voice telling the story and I feel very bad. This could be you, this could be me, this could be anyone, and I know this has happened, is happening, and will happen to lots of people out there. I don't know what art is supposed to mean, I think Frankfurt intellectuals might have more saying in this than me, for they spent a certain amount of time to argue whether or not art is supposed to enhance the creation of the elitist or art is for the majority of people. Or they would be arguing the same thing, art for the sake of art or art for the sake of humanity.

The title of this review just about says it all. Except, of course, that the two former lovers are portrayed by Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman, who could probably do a satisfying reading of the telephone book. Except that Rickman's character gets drunk and disappears to take a nap on the roof, there isn't much action in this film. The drama lies entirely in the subtle (and not so subtle) interactions of He and She. He appears to be a disappointed academic who would like to rekindle his relationship with She. She is cool, sophisticated, cautious and soon repelled by He's behavior. (Eventually She pays the bill and leaves. ( He, having awakened from his nap finds the table empty.) Not much of a plot to be sure, and the dialog is nothing special. But it is ever a pleasure to watch Thompson and Rickman in action and they inhabit their roles with characteristic conviction. The viewer learns a lot about He and She, not so much from what is said or done, but from how the two actors play off one another.

Well written and extremely well acted but ultimately a very depressing story that, though nicely worded and clever, ultimately is an overwrought adoration of patheticness. Alan Rickman is fabulous as the central character who narrates his own thoughts as they occur to him during his lunch with the equally fabulous Emma Thompason. He reads the lines with such emotion and clarity, the problem is the lines and plot itself. Perhaps I should feel pathos for the central character, and perhaps I am just not "artistic" enough to reflexively identify portrayal of negativity as fine literature, but mostly I just thought what a sad waste of acting talent and thus ultimately unredeeming.