P.S. I Love You...

The film revolves around Holly Kennedy (Swank) as she receives letters from her husband (Butler) throughout the first year of his death. The letters encourage her to not only celebrate Gerry’s life, but to also move on with her own. She tries desperately to find meaning in his death and a place without Gerry, but constantly encounters setbacks keeping her from healing. The tragedy in this movie is not Gerry’s death and Holly’s abandonment; it’s that the filmmakers never give the audience a moment to breathe between the dramatic scenes. So many times throughout the film I found myself unable to focus because I was just expecting another hysterical sobbing fit to overtake me. Even in the most emotional films, the director breaks the tension with periods of levity, but the lightest scenes in P.S. I Love You felt contrived and sloppy. More attention needed to be paid to balancing the tragedy with the comedy. The best quality of the film was its realistic portrayal of grief, and how death affects everyone, even those on the outside.
Oh, and P.S. Gerard Butler should do more old man strip teases...just sayin'
Labels: based on a book, Gerard Butler, Hilary Swank, Movies, p.s. i love you
5 Comments:
Oh I really want to see this movie, but now I'll be prepared with tissues. Thanx for the heads-up.
Yes, we had to bring our own box. Which encouraged everyone to ask at the theater why I had a box of tissues with me
Luckily I didn't cry throughout the ENTIRE movie, but I definitely didn't have enough napkins with me to keep up with it. I think I was able to recover from my sad moments by drooling over Gerry Butler every few minutes...
Leslie
Is this my conscience speaking?! I swear, you've written, almost verbatim, what I've been articulating since seeing the movie on 12/21! I left the theatre and immediately took another dose of Zoloft just to help me get my emotional balance back on track. Outside of Gerard Butler, this movie was painful ... in more ways than one.
Every time Gerard Butler was on screen, I was bawling. So, afterwards, I popped in my trusty 300 DVD and enjoyed a mostly naked, tree-trunk-legged GB in the comfort of my own bed
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