Sophie is the survivor of Nazi concentration camps, who has found a reason to live in Nathan, a sparkling if unsteady American Jew obsessed with the Holocaust. They befriend Stingo, the ... See full summary »
A mute woman along with her young daughter, and her prized piano, are sent to 1850s New Zealand for an arranged marriage to a wealthy landowner, and she's soon lusted after by a local worker on the plantation.
The path of Francesca Johnson's future seems destined when an unexpected fork in the road causes her to question everything she had come to expect from life. While her husband and children are away at the Illinois state fair in the summer of 1965, Robert Kincaid happens turn into the Johnson farm and asks Francesca for directions to Roseman Bridge. Francesca later learns that he was in Iowa on assignment from National Geographic magazine. She is reluctant seeing that he's a complete stranger and then she agrees to show him to the bridges and gradually she talks about her life from being a war-bride from Italy which sets the pace for this bittersweet and all-too-brief romance of her life. Through the pain of separation from her secret love and the stark isolation she feels as the details of her life consume her, she writes her thoughts of the four-day love affair which took up three journals. The journals are found by her children after the lawyer was going over Francesca's will and ... Written by
Mark Fleetwood <firstname.lastname@example.org>
One of the few PG-13 rated movies to use the word "fuck" in a sexual context (Francesca's line "...or should we just fuck on the linoleum one last time?"). The MPAA originally rated it R solely because of this line, but Clint Eastwood successfully appealed them to re-rate it. See more »
The note that Francesca writes and the note that she sticks to the bridge have different handwriting. See more »
Things change. They always do, it's one of the things of nature. Most people are afraid of change, but if you look at it as something you can always count on, then it can be a comfort.
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When the soul of a movie is reflected in an actor's eyes then you have a miracle, you have something that's going to last. Meryl Streep in "The Bridges Of Madison County" is such a miracle to me. I never thought for a moment that she, no matter how wonderful an actress she is, could fool me. Meryl Streep could never be Italian. Well, there I was, thinking and pre-judging like people I detest. I was so wrong. Not just because she fooled me, although there is no fooling involved here. She won me over. I forgot she was Meryl Streep, the actress, and I lived Francesca's story to the fullest because, I suppose, that's the mystery of great acting, I was confronted by her sheer undiluted truth. The truth in her eyes in every one of her gestures. The truth on her brow. Her thinking, transparent. Clint Eastwood does the right thing putting the entire film at her service and placing himself as the foil to liberate that powerful latent side of Francesca. I though it was ironic and I'm not sure if was meant to be that a wonderful woman like Francesca will sacrifice, what could arguably be call the love of her life, for those children. The grown children's mediocrity was kind of shocking to me. Will the revelation of their mother's secret, reveal a latent, greater side to their natures. I hope so. Francesca deserved extraordinary children. Try no to miss this little miracle.
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