We were trapped in the middle of the row when we realized, 30 minutes into this self-serving, meandering, meaningless, selfish ego trip, that the story was going absolutely nowhere. Nowhere! Dull, plodding, pointless scenes, punctuated, not too infrequently, by a very pretty balloon. There were moments of charm with characters who initially grabbed our attention. However, these little vignettes of the life of a single mother, her son and their nanny kept increasing in number, like some chaotic bush fire... only without the heat, and all the ashes of wasted time. It kept going and going... and going... and going... people, fortunate enough to sit on an aisle seat gradually walked out, but we were trapped in the centre row of Toronto International Film Festival Zombies, watching intently as the story wandered like a drunk old man recounting days gone by to his trapped grandchildren on Thanksgiving.
If you go see this film, bring a pillow.
If you go see this film, bring a pillow.