The Designated Mourner

I worked at the national film theatre & had to usher this film, unfortunately I drew the short straw & was the only one who had to watch it twice. About 75% of the audience walked out per screening. Three people talking to camera. set = table. Genuinely had people snoring. I had to stand up to stop from sleeping.

Worst film ever made. don't accidentally watch it, hire it etc. It really is not worth the effort. If however you're planning to rob a bank, show the workers this film & watch them nod off. This really is a film to kill yourself to. Dull Dull Dull.

PS. no this is not highbrow - it's tosh.

I stumbled across this film late one night, as if i had stumbled into a dream, one i couldn't draw myself from.

The lack of set puts all emphasis on the long monologues, which are delivered with such riveting feeling that the character's words fail not to touch you in someway.The script seems split between drawing from reality's loneliness and hurt, and poetry's cutting imagery and sentiment, which altogether creates some haunting myth.The entire cast (numbering but three and including a fabulous Miranda Richardson)are thoroughly engaging-Mike Nickols carries the film admirably-their characters seem locked in the retelling of the story, utterly lost in the memories and who can help but reflect the feelings of identity and loneliness upon themselves.

A drama of evolving inconsequence may evoke a certain appeal, as we hear the meandering rambling from one to another, the authors describe each other and themselves, analyze and criticize without arriving at any apparent conclusion or plateau of resolution. A seemingly unapparent effort in arousing suspicion amongst it's audience-in an effort to suggest a deeper meaning, a plot or subtext (this quite obviously is non existent) And yet, they continue to groan and meet with more intimate resolution as the 'play' takes a more detailed step forward, only to be rudely interrupted by their chief protagonist 'Jack' The whole affair reminds me of production meeting of a fictitious film company, with fictitious goals, offering pointless objectives based upon circumstances manipulated at their leisure as a means to perpetuate their overtly pointless existences. Still, it inspires writing in others, and indicates a challenge to conventional wisdom of broadcasting commissioners.

Overwhelmingly describes the tedious equation of life over time, as seen through the eyes of the oppressed middle classes, with no drive or enthusiasm remaining-or perhaps they are simply too boring to inject the juice into their lives once more.

Did somebody die?-I forget

If you manage to read this review and find your brain elsewhere by the second paragraph, do yourself a favor- rent Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey!

'The Designated Mourner', a play by Wallace Shawn, is above all else an exercise in writing. Three people (in this adaptation by David Hare, sat statically throughout in one of two locations, one of which appears to be a television news desk, the other a table in a small café), discuss their relationship. But although they respond to each other in tone, they rarely directly address the subject material that the others refer to; and the wider backdrop to their personal story, a crypto-fascist coup, is mentioned only elliptically by all three participants, just as it might be in real conversation where certain things would be taken as known. But there's little that's naturalistic or conventionally conversational about these carefully constructed interlaced monologues; they better represent the inner voices of self-justification (or alternatively, the voices of published autobiography). In spite of the artifice, one does develop a sophisticated sense for the nuances of the trio's characters; everyone has an agenda, and deciphering the three unreliable narrators is exactly the point. Thi particular film of the play is well acted, and it's probably sensible that Hare has chosen to add very little to the basic script (having made this decision, almost his only work as director is to choose when to cut between alternative close-ups). But while theatre has to work within certain intrinsic limitations (and offers you the benefits of live performance as a compensation), cinema does not and in this sense, this seems a strange work to put on screen. Nonetheless, it's still an interesting experiment, and worth watching if you like your drama wordy and cerebral.

I happened by complete accident on this film late last night on BBC 2; and although I had to arise early the next morning, there was NO WAY I could do anything but watch it to the end. I'll have to watch it again - maybe more than once - to discover all the nuances in the wonderful dialogue, but for me the performance of Mike Nichols (whom I remember as half of the wildly funny Nichols and May) was amazing and totally riveting. For that alone - and the complex and all-too-human nature of the character he plays - it was well worth viewing and re-viewing (and reviewing!). This is not to denigrate the other actors' contributions; It's just that Nichols' was so memorable. So September's license fee is already justified . . .