Charlie Colquhoun is a journalist whose career is floundering. As a teenager, he fathered a daughter, Tommy, who was committed to foster care as an infant. Seventeen years later, Charlie, ... See full summary »
Peter Colt, an English tennis player in his thirties whose ranking slipped from 11th to 119th in the world, considers he never really had to fight for anything as his wealthy but all but close family easily put him through studies and allowed him to pursue his tennis ambitions, bravely exchanges jokes with his German sparring partner Dieter Prohl, in a similar position, but feels it's about time to admit he's getting too old to compete with fitter coming men (or boys) and intends, after a last Wimbledon, to take a job with the prestigious tennis club instead. Just then, by accident, he bumps into Lizzie Bradbury, the American rising star of female tennis, falls in love with her and finds her interest in him changes his entire perception, even gives him the strength to win again. But where will it lead them, especially when her overprotective father-manager Dennis Bradbury proves determined to nip their relationship in the bud, believing it detrimental to her career? Written by
Klaus Badelt was attached to the film but he couldn't finish the job because Catwoman (2004) had to undergo re-shoots after testing poorly with screeners. See more »
Lizzie in her Dorchester Hotel suite yells "It's open!", urging Peter to go straight in. Dorchester Hotel doors cannot be left open - they, like most five star hotel room doors, slam shut automatically for security reasons. See more »
We all start off in life with a dream, don't we? For a tennis player, it's being in the final of a Grand Slam, Centre Court, a high lob... a smash. Game, set and match. You're a champion. You're number one. But for most tennis players, that's all it ever is: a dream. The reality is another story. My story. Now, you see that good-looking fella? No, no that kid in white, the other tired good-looking fella. Yeah, him. Well, that's me. British Davis Cup, long time ago. Two ...
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Paul Bettany is perfect in his role, and delivers his self-effacing and ironical lines better than any Englishman since Michael Caine. He isn't classically handsome, yet you can't take your eyes off him. Whatever the camera loves, he's got. Kirstin Dunst continues to get roles she's not right for, yet carry them off by sheer self-confidence and forthrightness. She's not pretty, her figure is utterly ordinary, and she certainly isn't built like an athlete. She doesn't even look like she works out. And there's no subtlety in her performance -- maybe that's the directors fault, but her one-dimensional portrayal has all the mystery of drywall. Whichever it is, Mr. Bettany's charm and ease help soften her one-note approach to her role. Sam Neill, a brilliant and completely lovable actor, is totally wasted in this role.
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