After his wife dies of cancer, a sports writer must confront the responsibilities of single parenthood with his two young sons. A glossy and superficial film. Spiritless postcards of a life are presented one after the other. A sample scene: warm sunlight shines down as the kids play and giggle in an outdoor tub while folksy guitar music underscores the action. Cinematically pretty, but not particularly dramatic or engaging. The languid pace doesn’t really benefit the depressing subject matter. Actor Clive Owen does his best with an honest and heartfelt performance.
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I read early last year that this was gathering a lot of Oscar buzz, especially for Owen. Guess it didn’t happen.
Uhhhh, this film was so dreadfully awful that I am not surprised it got killed by the critics. Its one of those so sweet bubblegum film that makes me desire a personal tumor.