Knob, tit, nipple, lick, suck, wank……right, that should put me right at the top of a Google search, so lets get on with the review.
The Constant Gardener is not a bio-pic about the action-packed life of the ever-green, ever-popular Alan Titchmarsh but instead a powerful drama about a civil servant, his wife’s uncivil death, and a whole heap of dodgy dealings in between.
I originally saw an advertisement for The Constant Gardener on the side of a moving bus. The media quote printed boldly across Ralph Fiennes warned to “Prepare for a thrilling ride”. Now, whether the agency who created the ad were concerned for passenger safety on the Number 28 bus or whether they were actually refering to the movie itself is strictly by-the-by as ‘a thrilling ride’ is the best way to describe either.
Taken from the novel by John le Carre, the movie is halved right down the middle (although time jumps back and forth, as did director-Fernando Meirelles’s previous film City of God); the first half masquerades as an old-fashioned love story, exploring the relationship between two star-crossed lovers with utterly engaging intimacy. At times you feel so involved with their passionate courtship that your face turns the shade of a ripened tomato and you (almost) look away in embarrassment.The second half of the movie is a much more solemn affair, centred around a compelling quest to uncover the simple truth behind the lies, the deceit and the false implications.
The inspired performances from both lead actors will inevitably reap rewards when the next Oscars roll around but I’m certain they wont be the only nominees from this film. The cinematography is dripping with realism and this was primarily achieved by not using many pre-fabricated sets. The scenes of Kenyan shanty towns were kept authentic, as a minimal crew worked around real-life residents going about their daily business. At 2+ hours, a movie needs to be captivating enough to sustain audience attention and, much like last year’s 21 Grams, the style and manner used in Constant Gardener guides it to it’s predictable, yet splendidly satisfactory, conclusion.
The only dirt I can find to sling at this near-perfect cinematic experience is so minor that it actually endorses the film further:
a) the prosthetic rubber belly worn by the supposedly-pregnant Rachel Weisz gave her the appearance of a supermodel wearing a bag of Jewson’s cement and…
b) the African accent Pete “pop up everyhwere” Postlethwaite adopted was slightly dubious. But then, I’m in the dark about what a white Kenyan accent should sound like so this is only half a moan.
Like meeting the eye of a homeless person when you know full well you have pocket full of change, The Constant Gardener leaves you feeling a smidgeon guilty, a tad hopeless and a bit lost for laughs in your weekly film review. The last time I felt this bummed out Brazil had just fluked a win against England in the quarter-finals of the World Cup. Except this time, I quite enjoyed it. Otherwise 9 out of 10
And if you wont take my word for it here is the ultra-concise review from my temporary new best friend:
Aaron – Epic…..sweeping…..*choke*…cant talk about it right now, *sob*…
