The movie is ancient, not the review. The review is being written right now, whereas the movie was made in the nineteen eighties. It’s a movie that I think only I would like. I like stories in which nothing much happens. It’s why I like the Laura Ingalls Wilder stories.
Anyway, the move was 84 Charing Cross Road, based on the book by New York writer Helene Hanff, chronicling her correspondence with a bookseller in London from the years 1950 through 1969. Doesn’t that sound exciting?
Living, as I do, in an age when communication is instant, knowledge, or at least information, is immediately available, and in which there are very few meaningful cultural differences left among countries of the western world, I was entranced by a time when it was not always so and when the things one wanted had to be purposefully sought after. And you know, as a New Yorker and an Internet user, I cannot imagine not having just about everything one could want within easy grasp provided one had the money, but this movie depicts a time when even books were hard to come by.
The acting and the writing were subtle and wonderful. The characters are complex and just so real. The interaction between Nora and Helene was fantastic but snooze and you miss it.
Over the course of years, Helene’s and Frank’s letters develop and evolve from professional, though witty, to something more intimate and personal. They get to know and care for each other. But do they know each other? Furthermore, can bloggers who have never met consider each other friends?
I should mention that the cast was jam packed with quality actors; Anne Bancroft, Anthony Hopkins (before he was Sir), and Judi Dench (before she was Dame) are the ones I was familiar with.
So yeah, that’s the kind of movie I like.