I only read some of the book because something about the ubiquitousness of the light blue cover turned me off. Well now I know exactly what it's about and I feel the need to read it. A girl is murdered and the hunt is on to figure out who did it. Of course, the movie turns down a lot of the pathos from the book and the whole thing becomes a sort of spiritual whodunit. I've decided Peter Jackson is not a good director. I watched Heavenly Creatures, I watched King Kong and the Lords, and now this effort which left me very upset about the pacing. Peter Jackson, I'm boycotting you (and I hope the Halo movie doesn't happen under your direction).
Everything about this movie was off. I didn't like Saoirse Ronan as the lead (possibly tainted by my memory of her awful lying ways as Briony in Atonement), I didn't like Mark Wahlberg or the usually very likable Rachel Weisz, and I hated Nikki SooHoo's faked accent. Can't she just speak regular old English? Hewwo? We need to find SooHoo a better role. So really I liked Stanley Tucci the best, as the sociopathic killer. That's probably not a good thing. And really, if having bad hair, bad clothes, and bad style was enough to qualify you as a murder suspect, the movie sure got the 70s absolutely right.
