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Read alexinaus's excellent commentary. I would only add that another of the many pleasures this movie offers is the completely natural way in which the plot and characterizations unfold. There is not a great deal of dialogue and no verbal exposition by any of the characters. We discover the relationships between people by observing them interacting with each other. Grazia's periodic outbursts, when her frustration takes control; the rivalry between her older son's `gang' and another group of boys; her daughter's flirtation with the young new police officer – all are presented on their own terms, not explained. Sun, sea, and rock are powerful and visually lyrical aspects of the story, the eternal and immutable background against which this family's story unfolds, as so many have done before and so many will to come. The final aquatic scene offers a dreamy resolution in which Grazia, the local misfit, finally becomes a member of the community like any other, her legs unidentifiable among those of the other villagers seen treading water from a vantage point beneath them. Is it real? Or has this movie, until now so profoundly specific in its narrative structure, swum off into metaphor? It doesn't matter, and if the scene is a metaphor, it's an acceptable and fitting image for the kind of transformation that the preceding conflicts and emotional upheaval have brought in their wake, a transformation that is beautifully symbolized in the fluidity of water.

This seems to be one of that rare breed -- a vampire film with emphasis on mood and storyline, rather than a gorefest like, for example, John Carpenter's Vampires. I'm thinking particularly of the twist involving the deadly virus poised for release and the several secrets and betrayals on both sides of the conflict between the rogue vampire and the alliance of humans and peaceful vampires. The self-conscious allusions to other examples of the genre should tip off viewers that this movie is not in the traditional mode of such films and that "vampire rules," whatever they are, do not apply. If you're a stickler for rules, look elsewhere. The blue filter over the camera lens, the dried leaves and black panther in Lucy's gothic mansion, the retro set design, and so on are there to create a mood, not simulate reality. After all, the concept of vampires is in its very nature an eerie dream; this movie treats it accordingly. There are some thoughtful lines, such as pasty-faced Aaron's response to his warm-blooded partner's curiosity about what it's like to suck human blood. That's a place you don't want to visit, he says, leaving his meaning up to the viewer and therefore allowing as complex a meaning as you are capable of giving it. Sure, the fog effects are overdone, Serenity looks pretty depressing, and Woodbine was miscast. This is not a perfect film. It's a B-grade monster movie with the courage of its convictions plus points for originality and some style into the bargain.

This movie wears blinders in order to have it both ways. As Joe Fox, a too-nice Tom Hanks is a ruthless businessman who crushes Kathleen Kelly's tiny specialty bookstore (hardly a threat to his mega-chain) apparently without a shred of remorse, then deceives and manipulates her until the very end in order to triumph romantically as well. It's hardly a relationship built on honesty, but perhaps that's to be expected, given that they start the affair online without revealing their real names or saying anything about their lives. This constipated pas de foux is dressed up in a New York City too neat and pretty for anyone who's been there to believe -- but after all, the movie is just a fairy tale. Parker Posey is wasted in her most mainstream role to date and Greg Kinnear proves again that he's watchable in anything, but it's up to the undeniable thespian chemistry between Hanks and Meg Ryan to carry the picture. If you like your treacle thick, you'll enjoy this flick.