![]() ![]() It's really about her son Antony (Eddie Redmayne, a veteran of trashy potboilers), a massively screwed-up young man who had to start taking care of his mother at a young age, and ultimately loses the ability to have any sort of actual human relationship with anybody else. The crazy thing is, it's not even really her film. Everything else about the movie is appealingly slight at best, and what we end up with is a tragic imbalance that makes everything that is not Barbara seem much worse than it probably is. It's just, when you've got somebody like Julianne Moore blowing the doors off your movie and knocking every single one of her costars into a cocked hat, "not especially wrong" turns rather quickly into "pretty much wrong," if only in comparison. Nothing about the film is especially wrong, although precious little of it especially memorable. What ought to be a delightfully trashy potboiler is more or less ruined because of the leading lady's powerful, amazing work as the real-life Barbara Baekeland, who married into the Baekeland plastic dynasty and ended up murdered in 1972, in one of the more fucked-up ways that one can end up murdered. I bring this up because I have recently seen Moore demonstrate something that I wouldn't have thought possible: she is too good in the newly-released Savage Grace. This is for the extremely good reason that she is one of the finest film actors currently living. ![]() No matter how many terrible films she makes - and it's been quite a few, at this point - no-one would ever even think of suggesting that her career is drying up, or that the actress herself might not actually be worth watching anymore. ![]()
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