Once upon a time, love meant never having to say you're sorry. In "Breaking and Entering," a fairy tale of a different order, love is apparently about nothing but. Sadly, all of those apologies don't make us feel any better. Maybe that's because, by the time the film ends, we're not quite sure they're heartfelt.
In yet another collaboration with director Anthony Minghella ("Cold Mountain," "The Talented Mr. Ripley"), Jude Law plays Will, an architect who, with his partner Sandy (Martin Freeman), has just set up shop in King's Cross, a London neighborhood that is on the cusp of being gentrified but which still is known for its high crime rate. Think crack, prostitution and, yes, burglary.
Naturally, the high-tech architectural firm gets burglarized -- several times -- by a gang of immigrants who employ teenaged boys of superior athletic ability to initiate the break ins. One of these boys, Miro (Rafi Gavron), is as fascinated by what he finds at the firm as he is proud of his ability to earn a living in nefarious ways. This, of course, becomes a pivotal plot point that -- not to give anything away -- anyone paying attention will spot the moment it appears on screen.
In an attempt to do what the police (and apparently an effective security system) can't, Will and Sandy stake out their space at night, initially as a team and then just by Will, who forms an unusual relationship with Oana, a local prostitute (played to perfect humorous pitch by Vera Farmiga).
Will's distraction nearly causes him to miss another robbery in progress. But at the last possible moment he gives chase to Miro, who he follows to an apartment in a housing project. It is disingenuous of Minghella, who also wrote the screenplay, to ask his audience to buy why, at this point, Will doesn't just call the police.
Maybe it's because Will recognizes that, once again, he can practice the same rescuer skills he employed with the two people he lives with, Liv (Robin Wright Penn), his common law wife, and Bea (Poppy Rogers), her functionally autistic daughter. Maybe it's because, this time, he'll be able to get it right.
Whatever the reason, Will is compelled to satisfy his curiosity about Miro by visiting the apartment where the teenager lives with his seamstress mother, Bosnian immigrant Amira (Juliette Binoche). What transpires between these two is to be expected from a pairing of two such good looking actors/characters who cannot possibly not be attracted to each other.
That Will behaves totally irresponsibly throughout all that ensues is grist for the mill. That Minghella thinks he can make it all okay by having Will utter a series of "I'm sorry's" that are the equivalent of kissing a boo-boo better is to underestimate everyone involved.
It is to the credit of this fine cast that they all manage to turn in creditable performances, especially Wright Penn, who manages to do so much with so little. Of all the actors, though, the ones who turn in the most outstanding performances are Gavron, Rogers and, of course, Farmiga. This is a season of finely-honed supporting performances, and "B&E" offers some excellent examples.
To emphasize these performances, however, is to overlook one of the more important "characters" in "B&E". Minghella's films, including the critically acclaimed and commercially successful "The English Patient," prove that the writer/director is adept at integrating landscape-as-character into his films, and "B&E" is no different. Indeed, without King's Cross, and the artistry with which it was photographed by Benoit Delhomme, the film has very little reason for being. It is all the more unfortunate, therefore, that the script is not more specific about the class problems at which it barely hints.
Perhaps there is an apology adequate for such an oversight (not to mention the very unsatisfying ending), but "I'm sorry" just isn't it.
In yet another collaboration with director Anthony Minghella ("Cold Mountain," "The Talented Mr. Ripley"), Jude Law plays Will, an architect who, with his partner Sandy (Martin Freeman), has just set up shop in King's Cross, a London neighborhood that is on the cusp of being gentrified but which still is known for its high crime rate. Think crack, prostitution and, yes, burglary.
Naturally, the high-tech architectural firm gets burglarized -- several times -- by a gang of immigrants who employ teenaged boys of superior athletic ability to initiate the break ins. One of these boys, Miro (Rafi Gavron), is as fascinated by what he finds at the firm as he is proud of his ability to earn a living in nefarious ways. This, of course, becomes a pivotal plot point that -- not to give anything away -- anyone paying attention will spot the moment it appears on screen.
In an attempt to do what the police (and apparently an effective security system) can't, Will and Sandy stake out their space at night, initially as a team and then just by Will, who forms an unusual relationship with Oana, a local prostitute (played to perfect humorous pitch by Vera Farmiga).
Will's distraction nearly causes him to miss another robbery in progress. But at the last possible moment he gives chase to Miro, who he follows to an apartment in a housing project. It is disingenuous of Minghella, who also wrote the screenplay, to ask his audience to buy why, at this point, Will doesn't just call the police.
Maybe it's because Will recognizes that, once again, he can practice the same rescuer skills he employed with the two people he lives with, Liv (Robin Wright Penn), his common law wife, and Bea (Poppy Rogers), her functionally autistic daughter. Maybe it's because, this time, he'll be able to get it right.
Whatever the reason, Will is compelled to satisfy his curiosity about Miro by visiting the apartment where the teenager lives with his seamstress mother, Bosnian immigrant Amira (Juliette Binoche). What transpires between these two is to be expected from a pairing of two such good looking actors/characters who cannot possibly not be attracted to each other.
That Will behaves totally irresponsibly throughout all that ensues is grist for the mill. That Minghella thinks he can make it all okay by having Will utter a series of "I'm sorry's" that are the equivalent of kissing a boo-boo better is to underestimate everyone involved.
It is to the credit of this fine cast that they all manage to turn in creditable performances, especially Wright Penn, who manages to do so much with so little. Of all the actors, though, the ones who turn in the most outstanding performances are Gavron, Rogers and, of course, Farmiga. This is a season of finely-honed supporting performances, and "B&E" offers some excellent examples.
To emphasize these performances, however, is to overlook one of the more important "characters" in "B&E". Minghella's films, including the critically acclaimed and commercially successful "The English Patient," prove that the writer/director is adept at integrating landscape-as-character into his films, and "B&E" is no different. Indeed, without King's Cross, and the artistry with which it was photographed by Benoit Delhomme, the film has very little reason for being. It is all the more unfortunate, therefore, that the script is not more specific about the class problems at which it barely hints.
Perhaps there is an apology adequate for such an oversight (not to mention the very unsatisfying ending), but "I'm sorry" just isn't it.