Clive Owen is very pretty, but this movie is boring. He plays the struggling single father to two sons as an odd blend of sensitive and completely uncaring. The younger boy, Artie, is not adorable in his oddness - he's annoying. The older boy, Harry, has no character arc other than throwing plates around the kitchen and crying for no discernible reason. When a crowd of unruly teenagers show up to take over the house for a party, how exactly do they get in? Do they break down the doors? Smash the windows? It's never clear, but the implication is that they do so against Harry's will. Since the house appears to be intact, I assume he let them in. Not so much against his will then, is it?
My Netflix rating: 2 stars
I watched this last week. When it started I was deeply moved by it and thought it was going to be something special and then it simply because an exploration of truely bad parenting. There is no poetic implications in the way Owen raises his kids making the movie ultimately pointless. Social services should have stepped in on this one.
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