The Eclipse Movie Review

The Eclipse Movie Review
If only there'd been a total eclipse of the movie screen.
By:stacilayne
Updated: 02-25-2010

 
The Eclipse, a mopey melodrama gussied up with a spectral subplot, stars Ciarán Hinds, Aidan Quinn and Iben Hjejle as the prickly points in an unlikely love triangle. Converging at 11th Annual Cobh Literary Festival in an anonymous Irish seaside town, the three writers — Michael, a local, unpublished; Nicolas, a flashy, brash American bestseller; and Lena, a respected researcher of supernatural phenomena — love, lose, and snooze. Oh, wait: that last was me, watching this slow slush-pile of inert cinema.

 
No, actually, it's not just me. The characters in The Eclipse do sleep a lot. All the better to have bad dreams involving ghoulish, red-eyed, grasping ghosts who pop up for no apparent reason. You see, Michael is a widowed father of two, having lost his dear wife to cancer. Still devoted, he keeps pictures of her around the flat, continues to wear a wedding band, and takes dutiful care of her ailing father even after the elderly gent is committed to a rest home. It would appear dear father-in-law is none too happy being locked away, for even though he's alive, it's his apparition which haunts and torments Michael every time he's about to get some shuteye.
 
When Michael asks Lena how this can be, she replies that sometimes people who are still alive but "close to death" can become phantoms. But she doesn't offer much more in the way of explanation, because she's too busy being stalked by a ghost of her adulterous past: Nicolas. It seems the drunken playboy bagged Lena once at another author's conference, but neglected to tell her he was married. Never mind that a quick look at the back-flap of his latest novel or a 2-second Google search might have revealed this to the renowned researcher… she's scorned. Meanwhile, Michael starts to get moony over the blonde ghost-buster, setting off every jealous bone in Nicholas's lying, cheating body. Angst ensues.
 
The Eclipse, written and directed by Irish playwright Conor McPherson, does have some good things going for it. The actors are all up to snuff (if forced to play one-dimensional characters), the cinematography is pure art (in spite of a drab color palette), and the few-and-far-between haunt moments are effective (if lacking in suspense). Unfortunately… the music and vocal dirges are like fingernails on a chalkboard never letting up, the run-on dialogue is far too expository, and in the end the story doesn't bother to pay off.
 
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Reviewed by Staci Layne Wilson
 
 
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