I have a hard fast rule. Never compare a movie to the book on which it is based. This, of course, is impossible in many ways. But one needs to accept the limitations of the silver screen. Little introspection, detail, character development, and so on. Obviously, with good direction and acting, we have a new telling of a tale. I really enjoyed the book here, but was astounded that a movie was being made of it. The dull portrayal of the cerebral nature of the plot doesn't stand up well. It kept my interest only in a how-are-they-going-to-show that kind of way. There is something so drab here. We are asked to glean all kinds of information from close-ups of the protagonist and Nicole Kidman. Connections fail. Suspense is non-existence and contrived. Some books just weren't meant to be movies.
Review of The Goldfinch
