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Kevin Costner is one of our great cinematic martyrs.
Even if he doesnt die in a movie, he must almost always suffer nobly.
As hes aged, hes become gruffer, and a bit more sturdily macho.
Hes still beautiful when hes sad.
They talk about how theyre not young anymore.
They talk about loss and letting go.
(That title will work on several different levels by the films end.)
But its not grandiose or pretentious.
Writer-director Thomas Bezucha, adapting Larry Watsons novel, finds ways to hint at the couples inner life.
And then, the movie goesbonkers.
Its almost like the movie is playing a joke on its two forlorn, subdued stars.
And maybe it is: Blanches crude garrulousness makes a sharp contrast to the Blackledges reserve.
But the patient, somber direction gives the characters and the actors playing them room to breathe.
It lets them do the things theyre best at: Costner gets to be the sad dad.
Diane Lane gets to be passionate.
And Lesley Manville gets to eat up the screen.
