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Normally, I would basically write this film
off as pretentious crap, a film that’s so self-congratulatory that it’s
narrated like a book, almost as if the writer has to spell all the acts
out for us. But, then “Little Children” won me over, not because of my
notions, but because it’s an interesting commentary on hypocrisy. It’s
about the people we ostracize in our society in order to make ourselves
feels justified, when we ourselves can be guilty of different sins. It’s
the things we do behind close doors that make us feel just as ashamed as
the other folks, even though we’d never admit it. It’s not just a film,
it’s how people interact and react in this world, and “Little Children”
just happens to pinpoint it during the “clean” and “sterile” suburbia
where happiness is just a superficial notion.
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And most importantly, the folks in the film
are all nothing but despicable individuals worthy of a
normal Neil Labute film; through this Field manages to
subdue our expectations and often brings our characters to
the lowest point possible, and surprisingly brings the
“guiltiest” character of the bunch, as somewhat sympathetic;
especially when you compare him to the likes of the regular
cast, which includes a chronic masturbator, a demeaning cold
newswoman, and a wasted shell of a cop. |
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Field grabs us from the get go observing his
characters, who also observe one another in their surroundings and most
often present less of a sense of giving and selflessness than their
actual children who sit and watch almost aimlessly while their parents
stagger back and forth between going about their affairs.
Winslet is very good as the observant Sarah
Pierce who almost compares herself to Madam Bovary which gives her an
exception to have an affair with the hunky dad Brad, played with show
stealing finesse by Patrick Wilson; the two catch one another’s eyes
from minute one, and stumble about seeking every single excuse that
would justify their slowly progressing relationship, and torrid affair.
The wrap around plot involves Jackie Earl
Haley giving an excellent performance as the oddly sympathetic child
molester Ronnie who has now become the pariah of the neighborhood, and
seeks just to be left alone, yet can never seem to know any better to
stay away from child inhabited areas.
The
narrator in his disembodied observations and fervor, seems to watch each
and every character like a wild life documentary host chronicling, not
just the interaction between the folks in the story, but of humans
period. And the often twisted take on morality never seems to take us to
task for chastising a pedophile, when there are other folks committing
equally damaging tasks in their own little world.
Field’s “Little Children” is one of the many
movies of the Oscar season that manages to be pretty damn overrated in
the end. One of the caveats that brings me to that conclusion is the
often excruciating narration that just about spells everything out that
a normal competent editing job could accomplish. If it was actually
difficult to adapt the novel onto screen without narrating, I fail to
see what the point of adapting the source material was in the first
place. This instills with it a sense of the self congratulatory, a
feeling that the film is almost aware that it’s “brilliant,” and will
alienate the viewer from its attempts to force the wit and quirky
situations that strive to be edgy, and are never quite, as much as Field
thinks. “Little Children” is pretty overbearing at times, in spite of
its quality, and is one of the more overrated Oscar bait in years.
It's a rather overrated, and self-congratulatory drama, but "Little
Children" also provides a taut commentary on hypocrisy, human
interaction, and the lies we tell ourselves, with great performances
from Winslet, Haley, and Wilson, respectively.
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