Fifth about The Seventh

The Goldfinch

The Goldfinch: the chronological back-and-forth of John Crowley’s drama somewhat hides the fact that of the many, many characters the protagonist crosses path with, none has any depth to speak of; also, the journey, emotional and otherwise, feels tacked on, inorganic. The result is a film that feels overlong because there’s so little of emotional relevance going on. The performances are uneven; the young versions fare worse. Oakes Fegley is mostly stuck in one expression, and Finn Wolfhard lays too heavily on the accent. Ansel Elgort is fine (even if he doesn’t look like an aged Fegley), but is mostly asked to play stoicism. The best performance of the film comes out of the always reliable Jeffrey Wright. The film looks very polished (it is shot by Roger Deakins, after all) and sports a fine production design; still, it’s all very conventionally done.

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