BootDigest Such a frustrating disappointment

Listonixio Fresh and Exciting

FirstWitch A movie that not only functions as a solid scarefest but a razor-sharp satire.

Kaydan Christian A terrific literary drama and character piece that shows how the process of creating art can be seen differently by those doing it and those looking at it from the outside.

richievee "Cold Comfort Farm" has to be one of the worst films I have ever had the misfortune of sitting through. The acting was dismal, the story line unengaging, the direction indifferent, and the all-too-frequent attempts at humor pathetically lacking in comedic chops. This so-called "star," Kate Beckinsale, could not act her way out of an amateur troupe, at least to judge from the shallow characterization here. Stephen Fry was bad, bad, bad, as was Joanna Lumley. Only Ivan Kaye as Reuben Starkadder deserves any kind of accolades. He was the solitary believable member of the wasted cast. I kept waiting for "Cold Comfort Farm" to get off the ground, but it just wallowed in its own mediocrity. Even the music was ill-conceived. At one point, a lengthy excerpt from Max Steiner's "Gone With the Wind" soundtrack came out of nowhere, an embarrassing anachronism worthy of another clunker from the past, Baz Luhrmann's horrid "Moulin Rouge!" Please don't invest your hard-earned money in this misguided project. You will regret it.

Robert J. Maxwell Kate Bekinsale plays a chic young woman who inherits a pittance and, to save money and perhaps gather material for a novel, moves to remote Cold Comfort Farm. She gets more than she bargained for. First of all, the farm is really a farm, with cows, pigs, horses and barns. Second, it's a sprawling, dilapidated affair, which one character refers to as "the house of Usher." Third, the place is cluttered and filthy and no one cares. Fourth, the half dozen or so residents are just as filthy as the floor and seem to have been inbred for generations. Finally, they are apparently ruled by an old madwoman who sequesters herself in an upstairs room and mutters about having once seen something nasty in the woodshed.Now, these are all very queer characters and each in his own way is a fit case study of psychopathology. Perhaps the most interesting is the preacher, who carries on in the local church, the walls of which are spritzed with lurid graffiti, about how much hell hurts. Did you ever burn your finger? It hurt, didn't it. And what did you do about the burned finger? You put butter on it. Well, friends, THERE IS NO BUTTER IN HELL. Man, there is material enough for a dozen novels.There is a problem with a movie so filled with nuts though. It reminded me of a movie I'd worked in, "Crimes of the Heart," written by Beth Hemsley, about three quirky sisters, any one of whom would have provided a viable narrative. But "Crimes of the Heart," like "Cold Comfort Farm," really has nowhere to much go.In this movie, Kate Bekinsale -- a fantasy of pale and vulnerable beauty -- straightens everything out. People wind up married to those whom they should marry. A half-hour, off-screen chat brings the old crone to her senses and she takes off for Paris. The farm ends up in the hands of the most capable of its workers. Bekinsale literally sails off with the handsome young aviator.Afterwards I felt as if I'd visited a mother who trotted out a handful of lovely children, had them rattle off an idiosyncratic and brilliant version of the Trout Quintet, and then shuffled them outside to play. Gone in a twinkling.It's interesting without being particularly well constructed. Loved the characters, some of them anyway, and almost fell asleep waiting for the happy ending.

Christopher Campbell The movie opens with "I saw something nasty in the woodshed." It is a Freudian reference. Freud originally thought such visions were manifestations of actual events that were so horrible that the memory was repressed. He later renounced that theory and decided that such dreams were manifestations of suppressed desires and emotions. The subject never actually sees what was nasty and the woodshed is not real, either.Modern psychotherapists, for the most part with minimal training, have gone back to Freud's original theory, but the supposedly 'repressed memories" invariably are so far-fetched as to violate fundamental laws of physics. Ada Doom's memory, for example, would probably have a woodshed with many rooms, stairs both up and down, windows, etc., all fitting within the small exterior of the building. The "something" nasty would include people who may well have been dead at the time, or who were far away, or who never existed at all. The ax implies murder and human sacrifice, a manifestation of feelings that she was mistreated by her own parents (or maybe Robert Poste). The dark wood-stains and shadows imply blood. The interior of the woodshed is dark, mysterious and quiet, as of a horror lurking there -- a hidden truth that no one can face.The movie, made during the height of 1990s witch hunt, parodies people who use memories of imaginary (or even real) events to control everybody around them. Interestingly, earlier productions were made during similar cultural periods. The 'something nasty' can represent anything from incest to fear of financial ruin to communism.The nasty memories, probably of fictitious events, manifest themselves in the untidiness of the Starkadders. The farm is practically in ruins, despite the fact the Starkadders are wealthy. Everything is all loose ends, hidden secrets, unfinished business. Flora Poste represents the traditional Freudian therapist, one who sees through all the junk of the mind and starts putting things in order by forcing people to see the truth about themselves and their situation, to stop dwelling on events (which are imaginary anyway) of the past and which have absolutely no bearing on the present. The Starkadders, one by one, have a paradigm shift away from suspicion, secrecy, and guilt to productivity, optimism, and adventurousness. They no longer live in fear.The movie ridicules fear and guilt. They are not just 'untidy,' they enslave us, tie us down, and keep us from reaching our full potential. Flora Poste represents the whole woman, idealized. She fears nothing for herself, despite the fact that she is the one character that actually has serious problems to deal with. Orphaned, virtually penniless, with an uncertain future, yet she could not care less. Unlike the miserable Starkadders who are helpless despite wealth, position and power, Flora Poste is the master of her own fate despite her lack of all the advantages the the Starkadders have.The movie allows us to laugh at our fears and shortcomings, and encourages us to take control of our own destinies. What is not to like about it?

T Y This movie depicts a post-Victorian, but nonetheless backwards-glancing, (1930s) rural England. Given this material; the propensity of the English to believe it's their job to tidy up rooms, regions and nations, matched by the arrogance to subjugate and condescend to anyone they deem untidy over the centuries; it seems like the movie could be a drag. As a story it's been told one too many times... but a light touch and a off-kilter tone make it an enjoyable fable. It's a fond allegory of empire."Robert Post's child" w/o hope of fortune but with great confidence in her world-view, takes on a rural situation out of boredom, works absurdly positive miracles, and sets things right, handily rescuing everyone from their self-constructed cages; all while reckoning with the gravitas of an unseen Miss Havisham in the room off the landing While Flora has no humility of her own, she does have manners; and with those, she pushes a bunch of maladaptive family members to a place they can unload their baggage by rediscovering humility.Making it all more bearable, the urbanites (played by Lumley and Beckinsale), typically snide and unlikeable, instead are awfully pleasant when they condescend. A few lines still make me smirk. "It's not good to be dewy-eyed around smart people, but you can always secretly despise them" is given a bright, cheerful delivery by Lumley. While perfectly serviceable as an unspoken rule of etiquette, it sounds quite absurd when uttered. A house-man who develops a admiration for his dish-scrubber, "...me and my little mop" always makes me laugh.Manners come into play everywhere. Ruben's change from a gruff beast to a sweet fella is nicely done. A late scene in which Miss Post must gently rebuff his proposal has a sublime, light touch. Strangely, after countless viewings where I simply admired the writing, it made me tear up for the first time today. The cast all does expert work, making most of the movie look effortless. Lumley's bespoke Miss Smiley could make for a good movie on her own.The film was developed for British TV which explains a regrettable gag here and there, and some resolutions that are just too pat. Schlesinger replaced somebody else as director at the last minute. As director, it feels like he's confident in the material and just gets out of the way. I think there are just slight problems that prevent it from becoming a classic. Aunt Ada "saw something nasty in the woodshed" a few too many times. But there is an abundance of pleasures in it. The way manners are voiced... the ramshackle design of the old farmhouse. The production designer for Nanny McPhee has definitely seen this movie.Once upon a time, movies were made for learned adults.