Atonement

Ian McEwan is not everyone's cup of tea (what writer is?)... I find his books either turgid or very good, a bit similar to my reaction to Nick Hornby, who failed miserably (in my humble opinion) with How to be Good. I am anal about books but that one went flying across the room and was sent to the local Oxfam store very quickly. The sight of its cover set my teeth on edge after about page 20.

I enjoyed McEwan's Amsterdam. Enduring Love was OK, but I didn't like it as much as the former. I didn't get as far as buying Saturday, but I did buy Atonement when it was published in hardback, years ago, on the strength of Amsterdam and the black and white picture of the girl on the cover.

I am not sure why I never read it but it may have something to do with hardbacks being a little too heavy to read on the Tube. Plus there was never enough room in my bag.

So, I decided to see the film of the hardback. I deliberately avoided reviews, didn't pay the blurb on the cinema listings much attention, and put away my irritation with Keira Knightley.

My friends (two men, who had no idea what the film was about) and I watched the first part of the film waiting... It was drawn out, soporific, threatened to be dull and full of ingredients for criticism, and I thought they'd slate me afterwards for choosing the film. But my goodness, it turned around. Some devices used in the film were irritating (the echoing "Come back to me...") but overall, bloody hell, that opening half hour was essential, just to contrast with what followed.

Keira did what Keira does best: fragile, posh and, when she was swishing about in that green dress, very English rose. James McAvoy was brilliant, as were Romola Garai and Saoirse Ronan.

The Dunkirk scene, which will be talked about for years (and has got to be Oscar-worthy), was compelling, amazing and somehow conveyed the sheer madness and horror of war through one shot (shot only once) that lasted seven minutes.

The rest of the story is difficult to describe without giving away too much. Suffice to say, when you realise what has happened, the thing for which the girl on the book has tried to atone (and its effects), it is unexpected. I am so glad I didn't read the book, or that moment would have been spoiled for me.

© Mellifluous Dark, all rights reserved.

As it was, I recounted the story to S the next day, surrounded by leaves such as the ones above, and surprised myself by crying as a few scenes came to mind – the ones at Balham Underground Station (it was indeed bombed during the war on October 14 – 68 bodies were recovered from the sludge; 600 people had been sheltering...); the one where Robbie (McAvoy) is with his friend, trying to sleep at Dunkirk, the revelation, the beach... among others. Yes, this may be fiction, but people have been through some of this stuff, and it really is heartbreaking.

I'd recommend Atonement – the film – for its entertainment value, for its score, beauty, sadness and its ability to move, if you are at all movable.

Cynics will say blah and blah, but cynics always do; they are never satisfied, always superior but culturally vultural. And what's to recommend that?