Just get over it, love

Closing the Ring
12A, Nationwide

It would be good to be able to think of something nice to say about this movie, if only out of respect and affection for Richard Attenborough, who directed it, but what? Nope, it’s just not possible. This so badly stinks. It is just so, so awful. After the screening I attended, the press were most generously invited to enjoy a glass of champagne with Lord Attenborough at a venue around the corner, but I could not go. Usually, I’m spectacularly up for a free glass of champagne. Ask anybody. But what if I were asked what I thought, and I could not think of anything nice to say, just as I still can’t now? It would be so embarrassing, although probably not as embarrassing as this film in which, on top of everything else, credulity is stretched so far it twangs back into your face. It twanged back into mine several times — ouch! — which was annoying, as I kept hoping to kill at least some of the two hours with a good, old-fashioned doze.