Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close Trailer Review

This isn’t out till February but it’s already annoyed the absolute hell out of me.

Here’s the synopsis:

“Eleven-year-old Oskar Schell is an exceptional child: amateur inventor, Francophile, pacifist. And after finding a mysterious key that belonged to his father, who died in the World Trade Center on 9/11, he embarks on an exceptional journey—an urgent, secret search through the five boroughs of New York. As Oskar roams the city, he encounters a motley assortment of humanity, who are all survivors in their own ways. Ultimately, Oskar’s journey ends where it began, but with the solace of that most human experience: love.”

I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. I hate those journeys of self-discovery, those mawkish “find yourself” pieces of saccharine trash which clog up the book charts and inevitably get turned into the equivalent films. Eat, Pray, Love was a prime offender last year along with Hereafter (which also handily managed to cram in two examples of real-life tragedy in the form of the tsunami and 7/7 tube bombings to add sicking “gravitas” to a paper-thin plot). Extremely Close looks like a combination of them both.

I suppose it’s not really a surprise. It’s written by Eric Roth who wrote Forrest Gump, an excellent movie, but also Benjamin Button, an example of what happens when you do Forrest Gump wrong. It stars Tom Hanks (no stranger to mawkishness) and Sandra Bullock (prime offender of The Blind Side – last year’s slice of “inspirational” vomit on a stick). There’s even an annoying kid that makes Haley Joel Osment seem palatable.

It begins with plinky-plonky piano music (of course) and a voiceover from the kid which goes “My dad said the way I saw the world was a gift, that I was different than anyone else”. Four seconds in and I want to punch him for a) a precocious sense of entitlement – you’re the same organic decaying matter as everyone else kid, get over it, and b) the misuse of the word “than” as a preposition. It’s “from” you little squirt.

Cue some irritating montages featuring the kid in all sorts of wacky adventures: looking at maps, peering at us through massive glases which are supposed to be endearing but caused my fists to itch:


Next we get to see The Kid and Hanks bonding over a rock. Haha, “you rock”. Laugh it up Hanks.

Then the unthinkable happens. 9/11. This causes The Kid to stumble around New York thetrically whispering “are you there?” in slow motion while looking significantly at the sky. And just when you think it can’t get any worse, U2 chime in on the soundtrack, as no piece of self-satisfied, sanctimonious crap would be complete without Ireland’s favourite hypocritical twats.

He finds a key left to him by his dad (the trailer doesn’t explain why he thinks it was left for him, and not say, simply the key to the attic window or the box which contains the blood slides of all his dad’s victims) and becomes obsessed with finding what it opens.

Armed with a mystical tambourine he goes off on a journey of discovery…

…where he’ll no doubt learn all the cod-philosophy that passses for wisdom in a post-Oprah world. Either way, women will want to touch his hallowed green head.

Max Von Sydow also appears to be in this. Where’s a real exorcist when you need one? The power of Christ compels you!

But then again, I could be wrong and it could be marvellous. It’s out in February next year.

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