The Claim

Michael Winterbottom's decision to construct the whole movie out of extreme telephoto shots - some of which have a pane of focus so shallow you start to wonder if it's really there at all - is more dogma than style. It places a heavy strain on the eyes which some viewers will mistake for tension in the story. (Michael Nyman's music, consisting of something like the "endless melody" which Wagner threatened to write but thankfully never did, likewise creates a tension which some viewers will mistakenly think belongs to the story. Actually, for once Nyman's music isn't that bad.) You have to admire the skill, and the art direction, like the choice of location, is beyond praise, but there's NO REASON AT ALL to make as peer at every single scene through a telescope, except perhaps that it's a shortcut (far too easy a shortcut) to stylistic unity.

It's surprising, towards the end, after all the cold, barely focused and rather absent storytelling, to find that the film packs a punch, after all. It came as a shock when I realised I'd actually been watching something GOOD. We really had been transported to another place (the journey was just a little slow); not having read Hardy's book, I found myself wondering how he could possibly have placed the story in an English setting.

I was also surprised to find myself touched. Some sad things happen at the end. I won't say what they are, and a synopsis of the plot probably wouldn't reveal what's sad about them, anyway.