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Showing posts with label Millions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Millions. Show all posts

Wednesday, 27 January 2010

Millions...



Earlier last week, I sat down to watch a film I had recorded. Millions was directed by Trainspotting (and Slumdog Millionaire - which I've still yet to see!), producer and director, Danny Boyle, in 2004.

This is a comedic story that deals with just what delights and frights unfold in his life when an idealistic and saint-obsessed, seven-year old boy finds 'millions' of pounds in a huge gym-bag that lands slap-bang on his cardboard den, right by the railway sidings, after his mother's untimely death...

The film follows Damien's attempts to give the money away via a series of good deeds to the poor and semi-righteous, (ably aided and abetted by several imposing and improbable saints), and his older brother's attempts to spend the money on real estate... And no story is complete without the evil baddie, attempting to get the stolen money back to its 'rightful owners'.

By turns, amusing, laugh out loud funny, thought-provoking, beautiful, lovely, and incredibly poignant, it was just the sort of film to reduce me to tears. To get such wonderful performances from two young actors is a real achievement, and the cinematography of the film - Colours reminiscent of films such as Amelie, (with saints bouncing right out of El Greco paintings), was enchanting.


The story is based in and around Manchester and Widnes, more usually known for their gritty northern, fade-to-greyness... But this is a real gem of a movie, worth far more than the millions of the title and way more than its actual box-office receipts... (Set up, as it was, against Mr Cruise's War of the Worlds...)

Look closely at the 'great train robbery' scenes in the film and you will see snippets of my beloved and beautiful Newcastle, where I toil relentlessly, and spend much of my time when not asleep...

A little note for my visitors from far and wide, especially Over The Pond... You might need to watch the film with the subtitles on, given the lovely Mancunian accents... Just saying.

And take heed of your loving Fhina's advice...

For the scene where Damien is re-united with his lovely lost mum, whom he so wants to see become a saint in heaven, have a box of tissues handy...


Something I wrote earlier...

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