What Maisie Knew is an adaptation of the Henry James 1897 novel, updated to Manhattan in the now, and is described in the bumf I received as ‘heart-warming’, which is utterly strange, as it’s a child-caught-in-the-middle drama, and just so painful. It’s compelling. It’s exquisitely done. It’s brilliantly acted. (According to the most recent figures, the chances of Julianne Moore turning in a duff performance are 0.00 per cent.) But it’s not a comfortable watch, which should not put you off, of course. There must be discomfort at the cinema just as there is discomfort in life, as Socrates might have said, if he had lived to experience film. (He also never had the opportunity to say: ‘You can’t be too picky in August,’ which is a pity, as it might have been the truest thing he ever said.)
The central couple in Maisie are Susanna (Moore) and Beale (Steve Coogan, which is a bit surreal, having just seen him as Alan Partridge, but you’ll get over it), who have a seven-year-old daughter, Maisie (Onata Aprile; seriously).
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