jdouglaspratt

I don't think I've seen a film that has brought forth such a piercing performance as this, to move some potential person of an opposing ethical position to a point of complete and utter submission for the mercy of a woman, the representation of so many gold-hearted others in history, as what Imelda Staunton managed. The rest of the film is somewhat ornamental around her, but the details of the scenery and the aesthetics, as well as the cast all round, carry such of their own merit that, all in all, the film deserves a full rating.

If you're looking for an earnest biopic, this probably isn't the one for you. Quite a plain account of Thatcher's rise between Dartford and Finchley is characterised by a distorted, flirty Thatcher, which for ever how respectable a performance Riseborough made, the laboured jokes and a jaunty soundtrack leave it more with the trimmings of Cbeebies, than the political hike it was meant to depict.

A beautiful stream of consciousness across the foundations of an intimate bond. Disorientating at times, particularly at the start, yet the film's ultimately redeemed in its circularity.

Winslet and Carey are great actors individually, but together they're phenomenal. Their chemistry elevated the film from a frankly basic sci-fi romance to a fable-esque odyssey. This, matched with the varied and creative cinematography - to create the effect of the journey - brought the message out of the screen smoothly: that memory is sacred, intimacy is permanent and neither should ever be taken for granted.