What a load of ****

Rating: 2/10 (28 February 2012)

I saw this some time ago with a friend who urged me to watch it. Saying how beautiful it was. I settled down happily on a Sunday afternoon after a big night out. Glass of wine. Bowl of crisps. The film starts - good production values. Brad Pitt gets killed. Good shock value. Didn't expect that. We meet Tony Hopkins as some corporate big wig (but what a great guy!) pacing around his office. Meets Death now in Brad Pitt's body. Death intends to take a holiday with Tony and put on hold a fatal heart attack. Mm. Okay so far. Then with increasing horror I realise we are being subjected to a load of syrupy(?) nonsense which drags on and on and on and has this stupid STUPID sub plot about corporate shenanigans. The worst part is that the film clearly believes that it is great and important and really saying something important. The camera spends a lot of time lingering over Brad Pitt and there is a scene where he makes love, def not sex, but love to the girl. Which involves him coldly laying on top of her and doing nothing. But gosh, he's so beautiful she gets off on it. Or doesn't. Why can't they make these films with a healthy dose of cynicism they had in the 1930s and 40s? Who signed off on this? Why did my friend think it was a great film?