This movie got off on the wrong foot for me from the opening credits, with three things that set off alarm bells in my head: A mournful piano solo, a beautiful sunset, and slow motion. A man rowing. Birds flying. Oh no! We’re back On Golden Pond, a movie I really didn’t like. (“Norman! The loons! The loons!”) Then the hero showed up, and he was that goofball from The United States of Leland, which was a movie I really hated. Didn’t like him much, either.
And I was right. It’s about obsessive love, which I don’t much care for, and it was supposed to tug on my heartstrings, which are not unusually resistant to tugging, unless you hang on with both hands and try to swing on them like Tarzan. This director does that. It’s the kind of movie where the lovers get wet a lot. Jump into a lake. Get caught out in the rain. Sit in the bathtub with a bridal veil on. Aside from a good performance by James Garner, there was nothing here for me.