The Lovely Bones

This filmⁱ is an exquisite retelling of a story that generally doesn't deserve tellingⁱⁱ, from a perspective that generally doesn't deserve attention.ⁱⁱⁱ

Nevertheless, it's exquisite. Delicate, for one thing, which is difficult to do. How do you delicately discuss the rape and murder of a 13 year old girl ? Over two hours ? Please, try, two minutes. Write two delicate phrases on this topic, and mind that cribbing's a paragon of indelicacy. And then, elegant. How do you do elegant delicacy ? Because that's the problem, anyone can make something small, if they practice, and anyone can make something sweet (doesn't even need that much practice : just dump sugar). But elegant delicacy is a contradiction in terms^iv and yet Saoirse Ronan typifies it in this film. By now of course the nuttery has run its course and the puhav^v mental collective identifies this as "innocence", specifically the sort that's definitely headed to a gory slaughter. This identification is demeaning, its automatic nature even more so, and the fact that the film does not pander to it refreshing, not to mention enchanting.^vi

The avoided pitfalls do not stop there, either. In fact, this film systematically avoided every conceivable pitfall, so that I never got my usual "oh fuck this stupid shit, what am I doing here" impulse that makes me close notebooks and walk out of cinemas. You'd think it was made by someone well familiar with the lashing that I usually pass off as criticism upon unfortunate artsy spirits - one can scarcely imagine the hells the poor screenwriters^vii must have walked to manage such performance. Good for them.

Anyway, go see it, well worth it.

1. The Lovely Bones, 2009, by Peter Jackson, with an absolutely delicious Saoirse Ronan, a tip top Susan Sarandon and some other people. [↩]
2. I know the culturally-defunct Western world is obsessed with crime, transgression and the slaughter of innocence as artistic motifs these days, these years, these decades. They're still minor themes, and the entire thing eerily symptomatic of the fascination with its own belly button lint that sinking world displays. [↩]
3. The entire life of spirits, the spirits are among us and assorted New Age dumbassery is currently living a second youth through the advent of very cheap CGI. Tools gotta be used, and this perspective is a good match - a situation much like the case of the guy holding a hammer that hammers a nail which didn't really need hammering rather than pick up a saw. It's easier - but once that exploring's done... oblivion still awaits. Where else is a spirit to go ? [↩]
4. A slavegirl once said in a poem about me "and the hells that have forged you balance". She didn't know me very well, certainly nothing specific on the topic, but nevertheless it appeared obvious to her that only the unrelenting fire of hell itself could forge steel this fine. This is a point, elegance results from crushing blows and scalding heat, it's not to be found on the grassy knolls cute fluffy rabbits play on, but underneath. [↩]
5. This is a Serbo-Croat word, originally, buhav. Untranslatable, but it denotes exactly what you mentally represent when you think of the physical aspect of the most disgusting rapist you could imagine. [↩]
6. Yes, this ultimately reduces to me stating that adding nudity to a film'd have ruined it. Go fig. [↩]
7. It's an Alice Sebold novel, done for the screen by Jackson, his gf and their Au au-pair at the time, or something like that. (No, seriously, they're hobbit/lord of the rings specialists. [↩]