The woman is Leda Caruso, a forty-eight-year-old literature professor from Cambridge, Massachusetts. The rest of the film flashes back from that vague catastrophe.
Sea of solitude achievement movie#
The movie (which is streaming on Netflix) starts at night, with a woman in white (Olivia Colman) shuffling along a beach and collapsing on the shore.
It leaves the movie feeling simultaneously too short and too long, a slender tale drawn out at extended length and a vast one crammed into a two-hour span with undue brevity and haste. What’s more, this replacement of reflective voice with dramatic depiction reduces the emotion, the psychology, and the intellectual power of the story. That impression, borne out in point of fact, highlights the essential failure of this nonetheless accomplished film-the reduction of a literary source to the framework of a plot. Though I’d never read the book, the film left me with no doubt that the novel had been written as a first-person narrative, filled with the protagonist’s memories, perceptions, ideas, and directly voiced emotions. About a month ago, on my first viewing of “The Lost Daughter,” Maggie Gyllenhaal’s adaptation of the novel by Elena Ferrante, I was sure that something was missing.
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