I disliked the unreal stage-play-house-set where a drama with stilted, cold, unreal dialogue occurred between people us ordinary folk could not identify with. It did not grip me. There was a lot of gong, but very little dinner. And little feeling to me of “reality”.
Yet what I found unfortunate about the Drama, is what “Critics” feel is it’s perfection!
The guilty-not-guilty verdict is a final masterstroke from a drama that doesn’t put a foot wrong start to finish. It’s bleakly recognisable.
Those themes are fed into by director Marc Munden’s hyper-real stylised colours…
If this were a stage play—and in many ways it has the sense of one….
National Treasure simply cements Jack Thorne’s reputation as one of the UK’s leading dramatists, in structure, dialogue and theme.
Using fiction to understand the ways people like Finchley committed, lived with, and got away with their abhorrent acts doesn’t diminish their guilt or excuse their crimes. It only elevates us. Empathy always does.
That’s what I came away without! Empathy! No elevation here! They were just a despicable bunch of people whose clipped, unnatural conversations, and various antics left me wondering how “real” people would have behaved in such a situation. I doubt, in reality, it would have been anything similar.
I repeat my original opinion – “The whole thing felt very odd. Fake – contrived – artificial – by a writer who is writing a script derived from his own present culture. What can Jack Thorne know at only 37?”
The only redeeming scene was the court scene – THEN I woke up. Something about it felt authentic – mostly the cold process of criminal law.
But that’s just me.