Dream House Movie Review
Directed by Jim Sheridan from a screenplay by David Loucks, "Dream House" feels like the filmmakers were to delve into a kind of bargain bin of the tales of spare parts - a touch of "The Amityville Horror", a piece of "The Shining", a bit of "The Sixth Sense" and why not throw in a "Shutter Island", also while we're at it?
Sheridan could never quite capture the tone and standard falls on a Dream (girls playing a wobbly version of "Für Elise" by Beethoven more than once) that never really convinces.
With its twists and pace telegraphed clumsy, the film would be unbearable if not for the fine trio of Craig, Rachel Weisz and Naomi Watts, all slums, more or less Ming. Craig is such transformation of his character as a father happy for troubled loner, sometimes within the same scene, at least look credible. (And perhaps signals that the film is really done, what with no less than four times unnecessarily shirtless through a story set in a snowy winter.)
As his neck gradually becomes duller and less hair finely landscaped, Craig is the ability to turn Quicksilver from sophisticated to rude reminder of why it was such an inspired choice for the role of James Bond.
In this way, it must be said that, actually, in real life every so Weisz and Craig left a long-term partner, and recently married. Stenosis of the film can not quite see the sense of two people who belong to them, even if some of their calm-before-the-scenes of the storm along with a pair is not a simple chemical that seems to disarm and alleviate both.
'Dream House' is perhaps not a memorable film, but he will always remember playing in the personal stories of these two stars never convincing modern. This is not necessarily their "Mr and Mrs Smith", but it should not prove to be their "Gigli" either.
