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Olaf de Fleur Johannesson
Ágústa Eva Erlendsdóttir,
Ingvar Eggert Sigurðsson
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James and his three closest lifelong friends go on an ill-advised trip to the stunning coastal area of Barafundle Bay in West Wales. What follows is a touching and comical adventure dealing with friendship, heroism and love.
If I forget thee, O Jerusalem let my right hand forget...
That, oh so poignant verse from Psalm 137 altogether sums my impressions of the film. By all means, I am kind with my assessment. This should have been a great film, provided, the Hollywood script writers followed the book's theme. Alas, they did not; what else is new under the sun!
Despite its potential, the film did not explore or enunciate enough two of its main themes: the futility of war and more important, man's continued penchant to inflict inhumanity on fellow man. Oh yes, Bobby Golden Boy Goldman, one of the film's major players does indeed state either or both of those strong tenets even boldly. However, he does so en passant. Moreover, his excellent points are nonetheless made moot as the director cuts to the chase and the next bloodied then quickly sanitized atrocious conflict scene time and again. And there were so many of these telegraphed, goofy scenes. So many in fact,that soon I lost count.
Not long after, quite frankly I lost any or all lingering interest to stick it out until the curtain fell. Thank God for that tender mercy. This low budget, grade 'B' production could not end soon enough.
Before I exit, I must say that the film's depiction of the British protector-ship of the former Palestine was well, pathetic. Yes, we got it; the Thin Red Line had already gone bald and lost all of its former glory by that point. However, to paint them redder, er, yellow and to make them appear more inept even treacherous to the Hebrew cause, is well taking many creative, film making liberties.
Sure, the Brits neglected their peace keeping role while there. Even General Barker voiced his 'haaarrumph' stilted opinion and attested to that very fact while protesting to the then backpedaling, fleeing British High Commissioner. Still, he did so in a not so poignant manner nor propitious moment. No matter. The film had already gone so far south that it was difficult for me to discern which way lay O Jerusalem let alone the true path to peace.
I believe, the director and producer, though in an odd way tried to make their best case (whatever that was, we will never know). To wit, they could have done better with the film's plot if they had invested more time in exploring that noble road map to peace theme. No doubt, that lofty goal was well within their grasp and cinematic scope. However, all too predictably they instead chose to either neglect it, cut it first pass, or simply cast it aside altogether, just the same.
Like the British, Hollywood just could not help themselves nor the script. At every turn the actors fumbled the football, or bungled the entire dialog until finally, together, the flimsy cast and entire film crew botched what should have been an otherwise beautiful, possibly even most edifying film.
Forget about it!
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