The Imitation Game

Director: Morten Tyldum
Starring: Benedict Cumberbatch, Keira Knightley, Matthew Goode, Mark Strong, Charles Dance, Allen Leech, Matthew Beard, Roy Kinnear, Alex Lawther, Jack Bannon
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

In the historical heroes gallery that comprises this year's Best Picture race, World War II codebreaker and cryptanalyst Alan Turing stands out from the pack. Not only because his story's so different, but because so few have heard of him or that story until recently. With The Imitation Game, director Morten Tyldum makes a biopic that doesn't feel like one even when going through the usual motions because its subject transcends it, as does Benedict Cumberbatch's brilliant lead performance. It's been endlessly compared to The Theory of Everything but other than both being British biopics about tortured geniuses, there are very few similarities aside from sharing a stigma they were made as awards bait.  While Everything was very much traditional biopic that methodically walked us through Stephen Hawking's marriage and illness, careful not to ruffle any feathers, this is an exciting sprint through the life and work of a complicated and persecuted man at odds with his own identity.

When this ends, you're able to understand exactly what he did and why it was so important, even if his story's the biographical equivalent of a tree falling in the forest, with someone accomplishing a feat so risky and ahead of its time it couldn't be revealed for nearly 50 years. The unheralded father of artificial intelligence and computers, Turing's odd quirks and anti-social behavior draw closer comparisons to Mark Zuckerberg in The Social Network than a legend history ignored. But carrying the heavy load of his "big secret" during an unfortunately intolerant time is what ultimately caused his undoing and eventual anonymity, even in death. Tyldum's efforts go a long way toward correcting that. 

Occasionally jumping back-and-forth through time between his days being bullied at boarding school in 1927 and eventual arrest and interrogation as a college professor in 1951, the bulk of the film centers on Alan Turing's (Cumberbatch) time working at England's Bletchley Park at the height of World War II. After an awkward, confrontational interview with Commander Alastair Denniston (Charles Dance), the arrogant but gifted Turing is hired and eventually put in charge of a covert cryptography team that includes Hugh Alexander (Matthew Goode), John Cairncross (Allen Leech) and Peter Hilton (Matthew Beard).  Appointed by the government to secretly decrypt the Nazi Enigma machine, Turing oversees a group of men who neither like nor respect him, building a machine named "Christopher" that he hopes can decode the German encryptions. Controversially, he also adds a woman, Cambridge grad Joan Clarke (Keira Knightley), to the team. But with Denniston breathing down his neck for immediate results and a secret life that could potentially destroy him, Turing will have to learn how to play nice with others if there's to be any chance of saving lives and eventually ending the war.

Turing is immediately introduced as a conceited oddball who's to difficult to work with and nearly impossible to work for. He doesn't listen, can't look you in the eye, has problems carrying on a normal conversation and does whatever he wants regardless of the consequences or how it effects anyone else. He often comes off as an Apergers sufferer before anyone knew what it was or how to diagnosis it, with his saving grace being that he's a genius who's right about nearly everything. The machine represents the apex of his intellectual capabilities, but whether he'll admit it or not, he needs the help in honing and perfecting it to accomplish its code-breaking goal.

The push and pull of the story is Turing's constant battles with his entire team since his mind doesn't have the time or capacity for dealing with people. The lone exception is Joan, whom he goes to bat for reasons more complicated than it first appears. At first, it seems as if he's just simply using her abilities to get this done. We then suspect he might be unselfishly pushing her to fulfill her potential. And then briefly, Graham Moore's script begins hinting at a burgeoning romance between the two. This is where the movie turns on its heels and heads in an entirely new direction, as Turing's closeted homosexuality comes to the surface and threatens to end him, insuring he'll face criminal charges or worse.

Turing's secret is one he didn't even seem to be in on himself or refuses to acknowledge as reality in those times, as his misguided marriage proposal to Joan confirms. He just knows he's "different." And that's really the prism through which the whole film and Cumberbatch's work in it can be viewed, so it's strange many feel the script brushes this aspect under the rug. Every scene is about his inability to fit in, most especially ones opposite the similarly marginalized and underestimated Joan and the flashbacks to his childhood (featuring a great Alex Lawther performance as young Turing).

It's only by cracking Enigma that he can escape all this, and because Tyldum is so good at showing rather than telling, it's these scenes that crackle with the most tension and excitement. It isn't just solving Enigma, but the actions need to be taken afterwards to insure they maximize the intel they have without tipping off the Germans. They're walking a thin line that ends up introducing all sorts of complicated moral questions that the characters and audience wouldn't immediately consider. The cruelest irony is that even after Turing figures it all out, saving millions of lives and ending the war, the secret of his heroic actions isn't the one that ends up getting out. It's the other one, and it destroys him. 

Cumberbatch is a revelation in this, called upon to reflect two entirely different dimensions to Turing's personality. There's the quirky, arrogant genius and the vulnerable, frightened child that's still very prevalent from the earlier flashbacks. It isn't until the third act that they completely converge and we're able to gain a full appreciation and understanding of the subtle acting choices he made earlier. While Turing may have had deeper problems co-existing with others, it's his sexuality that proves to be his true undoing. It's now insensitive to refer to it as a "handicap" or "disability," but at the time it was viewed as that or far worse, and Cumberbatch rightly plays it as such.

The film rarely cuts corners in that regard, as reluctant in revealing it as he is until the time comes to hammer home its importance in determining his tragic trajectory. Opposite him, Knightley delivers her typically solid period drama performance, which is to say she's completely effective without necessarily impressing. She can do this in her sleep, but at least here she's afforded the added benefit of playing a character of agency who can't be the love interest. But I still say her career best performance in Begin Again from earlier in the year would have made for a far worthier acting nomination.

One of the harsher criticisms leveled against the film is that even as well done as it is, this is something you'd just as easily be able to see as a television miniseries on History, PBS or BBC. But given the high quality of dramatic TV these days, is that really such an insult? While I'd agree there's nothing especially noteworthy about Tyldum's direction, a lot can be said for knowing when you have a compelling story and just getting of the way to let your actors tell it. Like most of the "based on a true story" awards contenders this year, creative liberties were likely taken with key facts, but here you can legitimately marvel at the surprising facts we do get, or that we've gotten any at all considering the unusual circumstances. The Imitation Game is absorbing and sincere enough to take the line, "Sometimes it is the people no one imagines anything of who do the things that no one can imagine" and make it seem like more than just an empty platitude.
                

Begin Again

Director: John Carney
Starring: Keira Knightley, Mark Ruffalo, Adam Levine, Catherine Keener, Hailee Steinfeld, James Corden, CeeLo Green, Mos Def
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

John Carney's musical dramedy Begin Again is so effortlessly fun and enjoyable that it's easy to get swept away in the songs and forget that it actually raises some interesting questions. What exactly does it mean to "sell out?" How does stardom change someone? What should drive an artist to make music? Why is the music industry collapsing? None of these questions are overtly asked or answered, but they're present the whole time, bubbling beneath the surface of what we think will be a fluffy rom-com.While it's become a cliche to call any movie "a love letter to" whatever (in this case music and New York City) this one actually sort of is. But it's definitely not a romance. It's about our relationship to music, told through that music and two characters who are about as real and authentic as it gets.  
 
There's one pivotal scene that serves as the jumping-off point for the entire story and the moment our lead characters' lives converge. It's so important we see it twice, from two different perspectives. Struggling singer-songwriter Gretta James (Keira Knightley) is performing in a dingy, Lower East Side bar in NYC and she's fairly unimpressive. Not terrible mind you, but singing exactly how you'd expect someone of her limited experience level to. But the second time we see and hear that same performance it's through the eyes and ears of divorced, alcoholic record label executive Dan Mulligan (Mark Ruffalo) whose best days in the industry are behind him, having just been kicked out of the company he co-founded.

Though drunk, Dan doesn't experience what everyone in the bar does, but instead what  could be, adding sounds in his head and watching all the dormant instruments on stage come to life, invisibly playing on their own. He's conducting his own symphony with Gretta as its centerpiece, imagining the kind of album they'll make and release together. Of course, she thinks he's nuts. And the best thing about it is how she's completely right, but also almost equally nuts for going along for the ride. It's an incredible scene that not only highlights the power of music, but recognizes the role of producer, whose job it often is to see potential when no one else does.

The film's structure is kind of interesting, with the story not technically under way until that bar performance. Separate flashbacks show how Gretta and Dan got to this point, with neither exactly riding high lately. She's broken up with longtime boyfriend and songwriting partner Dave Kohl (Adam Levine), just as he exploded as a mainstream star. Temporarily crashing at her old friend Steve's (James Corden), she's considering a move back to England, worrying there may be nothing left for her in New York. Dan is meanwhile battling best friend and business partner Saul (Mos Def) over the direction of their record label and losing. He's also confronted with the harsh reality that his rebellious teen daughter Violet (Hailee Steinfeld) and ex-wife Miriam (Catherine Keener) resent him for walking out, rebuffing his latest attempt to be a father again at his convenience. It's here where Gretta and Dan's paths cross at the bar, with him eventually convincing her to record an album after much prompting. The catch is that they'll do it publicly at various locations across New York City, funding it themselves and recruiting a team of talented unknown musicians. They're an unusual pair faced with a difficult challenge, but the project eventually proves to be a first step toward rebuilding their lives.

For a while you're so lost in the music that it becomes just as easy to forget there's a very deliberate plot, though not necessarily one that adheres to the strict formula we're used to. Most of the music is written by former New Radicals frontman Gregg Alexander of "You Get What You Give" fame. While that 1998 single cemented the band as a one-hit wonder, these tunes not only sound nothing like it, but could almost be considered his response to the industry that facilitated its existence. It's a lot closer to the acoustic, singer-songwritery sound found in Carney's previous music-based film, Once, and they're well performed by both Knightley and Levine. They offer up dueling versions of the ballad "Lost Stars," which would seem to be a lock for a Best Original Song Oscar nod despite that exclusive category's often crazy qualifications.

The screenplay succeeds in part by not making Gretta some great undiscovered talent, but a bar singer who probably wouldn't be signed by a major label based on her vocal ability. But the true irony is that less talented artists are signed everyday for reasons having nothing to do with their music, as much of that can just be fixed in the studio. This discussion of style over substance is nicely addressed in the film, with Dan realistically written as a smart producer who knows this, but thinks his profit-hungry business partner has gone too far in the other direction. He's probably right, but also too much of a mess to articulate it or try to compromise in any way. True to his skill set, Dan knows Gretta's limitations and what needs to be done to work around them to give her the confidence to complete the album. And that just might be the sharpest aspect of Carney's script.

Knightley's an odd but inspired choice for this role since on paper it wouldn't seem like it could work at all. Strong but never transcendent in everything in which she's appeared, most of her previous performances have elicited a respectable golf clap rather than an enthusiastic rave from this reviewer. That many still closely associate her with period dramas would seem to only increase the difficulty in picturing her as a hipster musician performing at bars on the Lower East Side. Well, consider this that enthusiastic rave since Knightley connects in a way she hasn't before, making Gretta instantly relatable and recognizable to the viewer within minutes of her first appearance. Charmingly adorable and sarcastic, but never cloying, she's easy to root for and Knightley is just good enough a singer to sell this. It wouldn't work for the story if she were any better or worse vocally, so in that sense Carney really knew what he was doing in casting her opposite Ruffalo.

Such a chameleon that it's hard to believe he's the same actor who recently played wrestler Dave Schultz in Foxcatcher, Ruffalo is carving out a career similar to Philip Seymour Hoffman's in that he can invisibly step into anyone. Dan's a walking disaster who's basically torpedoing his life and career, selfishly pushing everyone away. This shouldn't be a likable guy. Then just watch what Ruffalo subtly does with him to win us over. But if there's a weak area in the movie it's the sub-plot involving Dan's inability to connect with his estranged daughter, though in fairness nothing about it is handled poorly. It's just kind of there, with my indifference undoubtedly stemming from having just seen Hailee Steinfeld play nearly the same exact angry teen role opposite Kevin Costner in 3 Days To Kill and it's starting to feel old hat.

While the casting of Maroon 5's Adam Levine is the decision most likely to induce eye-rolling amongst more discerning viewers, his actual performance doesn't, strangely accumulating more facial hair the more unlikable he becomes. By taking this on he also opens himself up to the criticism that he's just "playing himself," as Dave Kohl (not Grohl) could easily be described in the same unflattering terms sometimes ascribed to him by dissenters. But the movie's more interesting than that, looking beyond the reductive reasoning that Kohl's just simply a self-absorbed sell-out. It's into the "how" and "why." Are these people born or made? Would anyone who experiences a taste of success or fame automatically re-prioritize? Without spoiling too much, toward the end of the film we're given the rare treat of actually seeing an artist seemingly "sell-out" mid-performance, if that's indeed what's happening. Based on what we see here, Levine just might be a slightly more interesting performer as Kohl than as himself. It's not that he lacks talent in reality, just that the musical material his character's given does seem to suit his singing style better.

The biggest question explored is the artist's purpose for making music. Is it done out of the love of the art or the having that art reach millions of people and bring them happiness? Or maybe it's just about the money. Some of the best scenes occur between Gretta and Kohl, including an early one in which she slaps him for what seems like no reason, until we realize both characters communicate with an unspoken language that exists between songwriters. They got there first and are a step ahead of us, knowing something we don't. How often does that happen?  I'm still not sure the film's eventual solution to what ails the music industry is the right answer, but it works for this circumstance. The timely issue of artist compensation is rarely even addressed in movies, so I'll take it. Let's just say what Dan and Gretta eventually do with their album works only for a certain type of artist, while calling into question how much profit artists actually see when at the mercy of a record label. The only exception is if you're so big that you are the label, or in someone like Taylor Swift's case, bigger than it.

This project was formerly known under it's working title, Can a Song Save Your Life?, which is not only more memorable, but a better encapsulation of what it's actually about. Given its themes, it's almost painfully ironic that commerce won out and this was instead released with a generic title that practically oozes corporate blandness. Luckily, the end result does anything but that. Under normal circumstances we know how a feel-good musical drama like this wraps up. We know who Gretta should end up with and what should happen with Dan's career and family. Carney is refreshingly uninterested in any of this because it's irrelevant. It's not about exes or shattered relationships and he doesn't even "go there" with Gretta and Dan's relationship even though he conceivably could and get away with it. It's just that there's no reason to and it would be a betrayal of what the story's really about: The music. It never takes a backseat. Much like the album being produced in it, Begin Again tries and succeeds in making the absolute most of what it has.
        

Never Let Me Go

Director: Mark Romanek
Starring: Carey Mulligan, Andrew Garfield, Keira Knightley, Isobel Meikle-Small, Charlie Rowe, Ella Purnell, Charlotte Rampling, Sally Hawkins
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)
  
MAJOR SPOILERS FOLLOW

In taking a fantastical sci-fi premise that could be ripped from The Twilight Zone and dropping it in a familiar, everyday reality, Never Let Me Go gives us something we've never seen before without flaunting it or obsessing over pointless details. It's a reminder that when executed to its full potential science fiction is the strongest genre out there simply because it's capable of exploring themes, emotions and situations conventional dramatic storytelling constraints would usually prohibit. The world presented to us here seems so frighteningly normal and similar to our own that the phrase "Based on a True Story" could have flashed before the opening credits and we'd believe it. As emotionally devastating as it is realistic it follows three friends who aren't exactly friends but are thrown together by dire circumstances they can't possibly control or possibly comprehend the full impact of. And that they can't understand it despite their best efforts to try just might be the saddest aspect of a story already loaded with sadness and regret.

Childhood memories, first loves, going away to school and everything else we'd usually associate with growing up seem profoundly different when looked at the through the painful prism of these characters' tragic lives. Mismarketed and misunderstood, the film faced an uphill battle from the start in being aimed at two wildly different types of audiences. Commercials and trailers were intentionally vague, leading to confusion and causing the picture to fall by the wayside amidst award competition from other prestigious releases at the end of last year. I've wrestled with whether I should reveal the key plot point (it's not a "twist" since it's revealed early and casually) in this review, and determined it's nearly impossible to discuss what makes the film so unique without doing so. A thesis paper could probably be written on the film's concepts, but what sets this apart is what's done with them, offering up a great case that the best films are capable of being just as intellectually stimulating as the literature they're based on.

The film is narrated by 28-year-old Kathy H., a young woman reflecting back on a childhood spent with friends Ruth and Tommy at Hailsham, a seemingly idyllic English boarding school that fosters creativity and physical health. But things aren't as rosy as they appear as stories and terrifying rumors circulate about what happens when you try to leave the grounds and daily medical check-ups tip off that these children are being groomed carefully for something important. They're scientific clones, being prepped to donate their vital organs to save terminally ill patients when they reach young adulthood. Miss Lucy (Sally Hawkins), the one teacher brave enough to let the children know of their purpose and early fates is fired as the kids continue to await the day they reach their teenage years and are shipped off to cottages before they start their donations. From their very early years at Hailsham young Kathy (Isobel Meikle-Small) begins to fall for the highly emotional, quick-tempered Tommy (Charlie Rowe), but Ruth (Ella Purnell) selfishly sets her sights on him, driving a wedge between the three that will last into the better part of the next decade. Teenagers Ruth and Tommy (Keira Knightly and Andrew Garfield) are still together while heartbroken Kathy (Carey Mulligan) suffers in silence, knowing the time she could have spent with Tommy is whittling away. Reunited a decade later in young adulthood, the stakes become even higher as the three enter the final leg of their tragic journey, preparing to fulfill their ultimate purpose while still holding out hope there's some way out.

What starts looking like it's going to be one of those stuffy, British Oscar contending dramas like The King's Speech evolves into a dystopian nightmare, but slowly and with such clarity and casual confidence you hardly realize it's happening. Merely the existence of the big question as to why they just don't try to escape confirms the film has more on its mind than just its premise and is entirely unconcerned with consequences or a cheap action payoff you'd find in something like Logan's Run or The Island. What sets Alex Garland's script (adapted from Kazuo Ishiguru's bestselling novel) apart is that they wouldn't try to escape because the possibility doesn't exist in their minds that they can (though it's heavily implied certain safeguards are in place to prevent it should they try). This is just the way it is for them and scarier still is the notion that they seem uncertain that they want to and likely wouldn't have a clue what to do once they did. The most terrifying scene in the film comes when as children they're taught something as simple as how to order in a restaurant and the uncomfortable result later when they eventually have to. What motivation do they have to learn anything knowing their days are numbered? Armed with the knowledge they'll die before reaching their full potential informs the story in ways it couldn't if this were just about showing off its premise. Ruth's decades long attempt to come between Kathy and Tommy takes on an almost sadistic quality when you consider how little time is afforded to them.

Since first bursting on the scene a couple of years ago Carey Mulligan has been slowly building toward a performance like this but I didn't think it would happen this soon. She was strong in 2009's An Education (for which she was Oscar nominated) and in last year's Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, but this a far more challenging role than either, requiring her to tell the entire story of this girl on her face without words and convey the evolution of a character through the stages of her life. Her narration contains a matter-of-fact frankness that subtly adds even more weight to the tragedy. It's also amazing just how well she captures the mannerisms of her childhood counterpart from earlier in the film played by Isobel Meikle-Small (who looks and acts so much like Mulligan it's scary). This is one of those rare instances where the casting and performances are so spot-on that you actually believe the chosen sets of kid and adult actors are the same person.

Andrew Garfield's impact as the shy but sensitive adult Tommy isn't felt in full force until the brutal final hour as he builds on the frightened boy we first met at the start of the picture, now scrambling and seemingly on the verge of a mental meltdown as he attempts to delay the inevitable. Keira Knightley's an ironic choice for the antagonist since she's essentially playing the exact opposite role she did in Atonement where she was the victim in a relationship destroyed by jealous sabotage. This time she's the sabateour, investing Ruth with a detestable arrogance that masks her massive fear and insecurity. While I don't usually count myself as a Knightley fan it's surprising how much she does with what could have been a fairly limiting role, not to mention the physical and emotional transformation she undergoes toward the end of the picture that renders her character unrecognizable from how she began. Giving maybe the most fully realized performance of her career thus far, Knightly can take solace in the fact that she only comes off as the weak link because she's sharing the screen with two actors emerging as the best of their generation.

Thinking of this as Atonement meets Blade Runner in a genre bending mash-up helps in getting a handle on why it had little chance for commercial success. But mentioning Blade Runner in relation to this is slightly unfair in that it implies there's any running going on at all during the film or that the cloning aspect is the driving force in some kind of futuristic narrative. This amounts to much more  than that, using it as only a canvas to tell a deeper story. The film was directed by Mark Romanek who's last outing was 2002's creepy, underrated One Hour Photo and it's easy to see why he waited eight years to direct another movie if he was waiting on a script this strong. What both have in common are premises that could have easily deteriorated into cheap B-level entertainment but instead ended up contemplating actual ideas. Both are also incredibly somber and depressing, this maybe more so, but it's not without a purpose.   

Despite spanning over two decades in telling a story that feels epic in scope, the film's running time still flies by and Romanek creates an intimacy by setting it in a kind of retro alternate reality that closely resembles our own, yet strangely feels like a bygone era as well. We're always aware that the chances of an eleventh hour reprieve for the characters are slim, but not necessarily non-existent, and it's that hope that builds much of the tension, eventually leading to a well earned emotional release. But the most sobering possibility implied in Never Let Me Go is that our lives may differ very little from that of the film's victim donors. If that's not deep enough stuff to think about, I don't know what is.

Atonement

Director: Joe Wright
Starring: Keira Knightley, James McEvoy, Romola Garai, Saoirse Ronan, Harriet Walter, Benedict Cumberbatch
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: R

***1/2 (out of ****)

There’s no movie I’ve been less interested in seeing in the past year than Atonement. When it was announced as a Best Picture nominee back in January I laughed and rolled my eyes. I thought that despite making riskier choices in recent years this nomination was just further proof the average age of an Academy member is 80. Just from the trailer I could tell it was one of those films based a highbrow novel any English professor would love. On paper, it would seem Atonement combines all the elements of every pretentious art house film into one inglorious package. It’s a sweeping period costume drama romance, based on an acclaimed novel. And, of course, it’s set against the backdrop of war.

My mind was made up. This was one of the few benefits of not being in school anymore. I wasn’t going to watch or review this film unless I would be receiving a letter grade. But I eventually broke down. And at its conclusion I was the one who needed to atone…for my close-mindedness.It’s fun to compare the endings of the Best Picture nominees from 2007. Michael Clayton’s was the most exciting. Juno’s was the sweetest. No Country For Old Men’s was the most frustrating. But Atonement’s is the bravest. I’d call it a "twist ending" but that would be inaccurate since the beauty of it is in how it follows the narrative course set from the very beginning. We just never bothered to notice. It causes you to go back to reevaluate every scene and every word spoken in the film and view it within a completely different context. At the beginning I nearly giggled at how much the script expected me to care about these young lovers and the seemingly contrived situation they found themselves in. By the end, it's no laughing matter.

It’s 1935 England and 13-year-old aspiring writer Briony Tallis (Oscar nominee Saoirse Ronan) watches as her older sister Cecilia (Knightley) develops deep feelings for Robbie Turner (James McEvoy), a visiting Cambridge student and son of their family’s housekeeper (Brenda Blethyn). Harboring a bit of a crush on Robbie and feeling overprotective of her sister, Briony intercepts a dirty letter from Robbie to Cecilia. An unintentionally humorous aspect of this letter is that the filthy word used in it would cause just as much controversy today as it did in 1935. Just ask Jane Fonda. It’s nice to know some things never change. I don’t know if the word choice was lifted directly from Ian McEwan’s novel or was the invention of screenwriter Christopher Hampton but it makes the letter and the film resonate a lot more with contemporary audiences than it would have otherwise. Because of this we feel the force of its impact as much as the characters. Briony’s discovery snowballs into serious accusations against Robbie of a violent crime.

The first hour of Atonement is emotionally involving at the most visceral level, but is also frustrating without having at least one viewing behind you to fully understand its purpose. It plays, Rashomon-style, with time and perception, often giving us a second view of the same event only a scene after it just occurred. One of the more brilliant aspects of this device is that it presents doubt as to whether Briony’s actions are motivated by jealousy, misinterpretation, or the fact that she’s just 13 and has no idea what she’s doing. Or could it be some combination of all those? Those answers become much clearer by the end, which only enhances follow-up viewings of the film. Initially though, it does cause some confusion. We’re also treated to the least erotic sex scene of the year, during which I was actually looking at my watch waiting for it to end. I also wasn’t sure whether I should be more concerned for the safety of Knightley or the bookcase.

In a risky move that alienated audiences the film pulls a Full Metal Jacket in its second half and shifts from an emotional human-interest story into a war film. It’s four years later and Robbie is serving in the Second World War in France while Cecilia and Briony (now being played by Romola Garai) are now both nurses. It’s within this section where we’re given an amazing 5-minute plus unbroken tracking shot as Robbie and his comrades navigate the Dunkirk beach during the evacuation.

It’s a scene some believe was thrown in for no other reason other than to win a Best Cinematography Oscar. Let’s suppose it was. That doesn’t make it any less beautiful to look, any less of a technical achievement or undercut the fact that it fits perfectly within the context of the story. Director of photography Seamus McGarvey didn’t win that Oscar but you could argue he should have, and not only on the basis of that one scene. The whole film is a visual postcard. Dario Marianelli’s musical score is punctuated by the clanging of a typewriter, which will no doubt annoy many. I thought it worked though and added much tension, especially in the latter stages of the film where it’s needed most.

As I watched it I had all but written off the World War II section of the film as tedious and meandering, but only after the final credits rolled did I realize it’s flawless. It’s here where I have to be very careful not to give anything away. Without spoiling anything, all I can say is that the story turns over on itself in the final minutes. How we thought we were viewing things and the perspective we thought we were viewing it from changes…and it changes brilliantly. Just when you think you have the story pegged it takes a sharp, unexpected detour and ends up being about something far deeper than you imagined it would be. The film actually turns out to be about what its title suggests it is in the most literal sense of the word.

As involving as the first hour was I can’t say I cared about any of the characters and was puzzled that the film would ask me to feel anything for them, much less root for Robbie and Cecilia’s young lust. Robbie comes off as a horny pervert while Cecilia mostly acts like a complete bitch to whom the world owes a favor. Ironically, early on I thought the most likeable was Briony who at best made an awful mistake and at worst was just a jealous kid. In those final minutes I can’t tell you how much my opinion of all three characters and the entire film changed as the wind was taken out of me with a sucker-punch to the gut.

I had to backtrack in my mind and re-examine everything I had witnessed up until that point. What I thought were flaws in the direction and script were actually subtle, brilliant strokes of genius painted by Wright and Hampton. Supposedly, they didn’t veer far at all from the source material and it that’s true than not only is McEwan one hell of a novelist, but Wright deserves credit for not giving into studio temptation and managing to retain the essence of the work.

The acting all-around ranges from fine to excellent, with a couple of performances going even beyond that. Knightley definitely fits the part of Cecilia but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that any number of other actresses could have stepped in and played the role with no great harm done to the film. James McEvoy, however, is irreplaceable. After being forced to take a backseat to Forrest Whitaker’s Oscar nominated turn in 2006’s The Last King of Scotland he’s in the driver’s seat here and carries the middle section of the film with a confident, yet sensitive performance. Saoirse Ronan earns her Best Supporting Actress nomination in a role that’s a lot tougher than it first appears, while Vanessa Redgrave has a small but VERY important part late in the film that I wouldn’t dare give away.

The great, criminally overlooked supporting performance comes from Romola Garai as the older Briony. When she first appears onscreen we just know she’s Briony. Sure she physically resembles the younger version but that’s nothing hair and make-up can’t take care of. That’s not how we know. We know because Garai makes us FEEL it with her presence. She enters relatively late in the game but the entire story rests on the handful of scenes she has. Wright wisely doesn’t have her attempt to mimic Ronan’s performance from earlier but create a Briony of her own, one transformed and matured into a different person from the events that occurred in the first hour. Because Garai conveys that so subtly is why I think the performance has flown under the radar. Still, I’m scratching my head trying to figure out how she wasn’t nominated. It could very well be the best acting work in the film.

Regret can be among the most powerful themes explored in motion pictures mainly because it can be one of the deepest feelings in life. You may remember a little movie called Citizen Kane managed to navigate the topic pretty well. Like that film, Atonement plays with the ideas of perception and memory. Similarly, the full brunt of its emotional power is contained in the final minutes. There are definitely worse films to be compared to and it’s very fitting that a movie about the power of storytelling should have such an unforgettable and emotionally resonant final chapter.

If the ending has a problem it’s that it’s so well written and powerful that I don’t know what kind of a film we’d have without it. Likely a far inferior one. But the ending is here and the movie has to be judged accordingly. While this probably wouldn’t top my list of the year’s best films it’s certainly more than worthy of its 7 Oscar nominations, including Best Picture. And if I went in with this much of a predisposed bias toward the material and liked it I can’t even imagine how much fans of period romances will love it. You are taken to school here…but in the best possible way. When it was over I actually felt as if I learned something more about great filmmaking and screenwriting. If you think you know exactly what you’ll be getting from Atonement, think again. It’s not THAT type of movie. It’s so much more