The Weight of a Hummingbird?

Saw 21 Grams with L on Monday night, down at the ever-pleasant Ritzy. Of course, we'd actually been planning to see Infernal Affairs but things went wrong. now, this was not entirely L's fault, blame herself though she may. Yes, she looked at the wrong issue of Time Out.. On the other hand, I didn't check any listings at all, instead being content to saunter down to Brixton High Street like I owned the place.

So, 21 Grams. Is it good? Yes, it's a good 90-minute movie. Unfortunately, it's almost three hours long. It starts off well, with scenes disjointed in time that leave you genuinely interested to find out what the central event to all these moments could be. When you find out, though, you're only half way through the film. This means that everything you see after that is something you already knew had happened.

There are one or two minor twists, but nothing worth waiting for. Most pathetic was the "surprise" pregnancy right at the end. Didn't see that one coming. As L said afterwards, "Ooh, how wonderfully life-affirming!"

So, if you liked Amores Perros, you have no taste. And also you might like this. Maybe. but then again, maybe not, because it's basically exactly the same thing.

For those who judge films on this sort of thing, you may find it a redeeming quality that Naomi Watts gets her kit off quite extensively. But then again, you could just watch Mulholland Drive for that, with the advantage that David Lynch's film doesn't also subject you to the sight of a naked, vomiting Sean Penn (though, mercifully, even 21 Grams doesn't go for both simultaneously), nor does it make you fall asleep.