I'm not going to completely slate this film. It had some convincing elements, and began to get a sense of drama after a while.
However, that's pretty much all I can say that's positive about it. It's extraordinary to think about the films that Nicolas Roeg has had a hand in, and then to see the genuinely shoddy camera, editing and soundtrack work in this. From a production point of view, it's well short of what it should be. Shots are wobbly where they really aren't supposed to be, the camera operator seems to be initially obsessed with unnecessary slow zoom shots when setting the scene early on. And it does that atrocious thing of the camera positively taking you by the hand, pointing at the thing that's supposed to be relevant, and shouting 'Look! Look at this! Look! It's really important and relevant to something that's going to happen in the plot!' Appalling! There is literally no visual, and indeed editorial, subtlety to this at all.
Of course, the camera spends plenty of time picking out things to look at that are apparently relevant to the plot (such as the titular puffball mushroom), but the relevance of which is anybody's guess, and is never elucidated on throughout the film. It is a story evidently revolving around a mish-mashed kind of magical mysticism, and yet the mechanics of this are never explained. A family consisting of the mad old witch (literally) grandma and her two harridan daughters are, apparently, desperate to produce a male child. Apart from the suggestion that this comes down to the grandma's loss of her son, there is again no explanation of what exactly this will achieve, beyond them having a boy in the family. Why is it so important? Why does this require magical, potion swilling machinations and almost homicidal hatred towards the perfectly nice, pleasant new couple in the old cottage down the road? We have no idea, and nothing in the hackneyed performances of pretty much everyone involved provides any enlightenment.
As the heroine of the story, Kelly Reilly manages to squeeze out (pardon the pun) one or two moments of dramatic complexity, but little more. The other female roles are variously overplayed or underscripted, and none are believable. As for the incidental male roles (more on that shortly), there's no-one who stands out... EXCEPT for Donald Sutherland.
Now just check that for a moment. Donald Sutherland, someone who, in his time, has offered some of the really memorable, if ever somewhat eccentric, roles in film. In Puffball, however, he appears, as though out of nowhere, with no introduction or explanation, then wanders about in woodland pretty much dancing gaily around magical stones and fairy rings, grinning all the time like a Cheshire... well, idiot. Then, when he does speak he's barely audible, delivering every line in a low, drunken murmur, and when he is audible, the pseudo-philosophical claptrap he issues forth makes about as much sense as a ham bicycle. I have precisely no idea why he was even there, and what his character was supposed to achieve for the film.
But, finally, the issue with the men. Fay Weldon is a writer with a certain feminist character, and certainly her novels are not without their confusing, or at least complex gender issues. However, I have no idea who, or what in human psychology, this story is supposed to represent or serve. The men are, essentially, incidental tools either to be used by the women in the story, or to provide the most vapid, inconsequential 'guidance', that couldn't guide a train along a straight track. They are cyphers, nothing more, used by the women in the story primarily for sex and impregnation, and they are apparently useless to offer any resistance to this role. The women, on the other hand, are either manipulative and utterly bewilderingly obsessed morons, or in the case of Liffey, a shallow, daft victim, who only makes it through the whole business by barely relevant or believable luck. There is no actual arc or development to her awareness of the world at all. Stuff just happens. It seems to me that this story has nothing to say about gender roles or relations at all, as its representations of both men and women have no bearing on reality whatsoever. Nor does it provide dialogue interesting enough to pardon this.
For a moment, somewhere, in the latter half of the film, there was almost a dramatic rhythm and character appearing in Puffball, but it didn't last very long. The timing is well off: it's over-long and narratively awkward. None of the story really makes sense, and one feels that there was an intentional decision not to explain what is happening. However, this went to the extent of not explaining it AT ALL, leaving the viewer with no engagement in the story, no understanding of what was supposed to be happening and why, and absolutely no idea why it was supposed to be worth the bother.
So, all in all, really not worth making the effort to see.
Oh, and some really pointless and off-putting 'internal' graphic sex/genitalia shots, using what I can only presume were latex creations from the xxx-online boutique's Pervy Plastic range. I mean, loads of them. Let's just say, I reckon there's a reason why not many filmmakers have felt the need to shoot sex from the inside. It's not pretty, and it's not clever.
However, that's pretty much all I can say that's positive about it. It's extraordinary to think about the films that Nicolas Roeg has had a hand in, and then to see the genuinely shoddy camera, editing and soundtrack work in this. From a production point of view, it's well short of what it should be. Shots are wobbly where they really aren't supposed to be, the camera operator seems to be initially obsessed with unnecessary slow zoom shots when setting the scene early on. And it does that atrocious thing of the camera positively taking you by the hand, pointing at the thing that's supposed to be relevant, and shouting 'Look! Look at this! Look! It's really important and relevant to something that's going to happen in the plot!' Appalling! There is literally no visual, and indeed editorial, subtlety to this at all.
Of course, the camera spends plenty of time picking out things to look at that are apparently relevant to the plot (such as the titular puffball mushroom), but the relevance of which is anybody's guess, and is never elucidated on throughout the film. It is a story evidently revolving around a mish-mashed kind of magical mysticism, and yet the mechanics of this are never explained. A family consisting of the mad old witch (literally) grandma and her two harridan daughters are, apparently, desperate to produce a male child. Apart from the suggestion that this comes down to the grandma's loss of her son, there is again no explanation of what exactly this will achieve, beyond them having a boy in the family. Why is it so important? Why does this require magical, potion swilling machinations and almost homicidal hatred towards the perfectly nice, pleasant new couple in the old cottage down the road? We have no idea, and nothing in the hackneyed performances of pretty much everyone involved provides any enlightenment.
As the heroine of the story, Kelly Reilly manages to squeeze out (pardon the pun) one or two moments of dramatic complexity, but little more. The other female roles are variously overplayed or underscripted, and none are believable. As for the incidental male roles (more on that shortly), there's no-one who stands out... EXCEPT for Donald Sutherland.
Now just check that for a moment. Donald Sutherland, someone who, in his time, has offered some of the really memorable, if ever somewhat eccentric, roles in film. In Puffball, however, he appears, as though out of nowhere, with no introduction or explanation, then wanders about in woodland pretty much dancing gaily around magical stones and fairy rings, grinning all the time like a Cheshire... well, idiot. Then, when he does speak he's barely audible, delivering every line in a low, drunken murmur, and when he is audible, the pseudo-philosophical claptrap he issues forth makes about as much sense as a ham bicycle. I have precisely no idea why he was even there, and what his character was supposed to achieve for the film.
But, finally, the issue with the men. Fay Weldon is a writer with a certain feminist character, and certainly her novels are not without their confusing, or at least complex gender issues. However, I have no idea who, or what in human psychology, this story is supposed to represent or serve. The men are, essentially, incidental tools either to be used by the women in the story, or to provide the most vapid, inconsequential 'guidance', that couldn't guide a train along a straight track. They are cyphers, nothing more, used by the women in the story primarily for sex and impregnation, and they are apparently useless to offer any resistance to this role. The women, on the other hand, are either manipulative and utterly bewilderingly obsessed morons, or in the case of Liffey, a shallow, daft victim, who only makes it through the whole business by barely relevant or believable luck. There is no actual arc or development to her awareness of the world at all. Stuff just happens. It seems to me that this story has nothing to say about gender roles or relations at all, as its representations of both men and women have no bearing on reality whatsoever. Nor does it provide dialogue interesting enough to pardon this.
For a moment, somewhere, in the latter half of the film, there was almost a dramatic rhythm and character appearing in Puffball, but it didn't last very long. The timing is well off: it's over-long and narratively awkward. None of the story really makes sense, and one feels that there was an intentional decision not to explain what is happening. However, this went to the extent of not explaining it AT ALL, leaving the viewer with no engagement in the story, no understanding of what was supposed to be happening and why, and absolutely no idea why it was supposed to be worth the bother.
So, all in all, really not worth making the effort to see.
Oh, and some really pointless and off-putting 'internal' graphic sex/genitalia shots, using what I can only presume were latex creations from the xxx-online boutique's Pervy Plastic range. I mean, loads of them. Let's just say, I reckon there's a reason why not many filmmakers have felt the need to shoot sex from the inside. It's not pretty, and it's not clever.