I have no intention of making this a regular habit, but for the second time in two weeks, I feel that a post on the film I’ve just seen is in order.

Today’s visual treat was Atonement. And it truly was a visual feast. I think I described The Golden Compass as beautiful, and I’d argue that Atonement is, in its own way, at least as good-looking. Several shots are still vivid in my mind some hours later: Keira Knightley looking like Venus emerging from the fountain; the soldier in front of the cinema screen, crying; the Underground tunnel during the blitz, all dark reds and blues and heaped up people, looking like something painted by Caravaggio. James McAvoy is fairly easy on the eye as well.

Below the line there will be spoilers, though if you’ve read the book you should be fine.

The film does exactly what you’d want: it tells the story of the novel, allowing the visual medium to work its own particular magic. It resists the temptation to spell things out, giving the viewer the credit for being able to draw its own conclusions. And actually, this is a very visual story, resting so much on things seen but misunderstood. We get to experience the same illusions that Briony does, in the same way. The shifting time sequence and the multiple points of view fit together seamlessly in the film.  I’m glad I didn’t know before I went that this was directed by the same person as the recent version of Pride and Prejudice.  He’s done a much better job of capturing a book on screen this time round.

The child Briony is perfect, self-assured, self-important, and oh, so very wrong. Harriet Walter is no less brilliant than you’d expect. Keira Knightley doesn’t do badly with Cecilia, but it’s James McAvoy as Robbie and Romola Garai as the older Briony who hold the film on their more than adequate shoulders. Vanessa Redgrave is, well, Vanessa Redgrave, as she delivers the conclusion to the film in the role of old, dying Briony.

I was wondering what they’d do with the ending. I found it the most dissatisfying part of the novel, and I think I feel the same about the film. It’s well done, with Briony being interviewed for TV about her latest novel, and explaining what ‘really’ happened. And I think I was glad for it to end with happy Cecilia and Robbie. But there’s such hopelessness in this ending. How can writing a novel and making everything come right on the page, be considered true atonement for the actions which caused such misery and true suffering? And how is it that I feel that Briony’s novel is so worthless, while still admiring McEwan’s? If there’s one lesson to be had from this book, it’s that atonement is not within the grasp of human accomplishment. And Briony knows it. She knows that her novel can’t atone for the suffering she caused, but she also knows there’s nothing else she can do. Cecilia and Robbie are dead – how can she make amends? How can she be forgiven?

You know, there’s a reason I mainly stick to rom coms and chick flicks. For most of the film I had tears streaming down my face and at one point I was actually sobbing. The Brief Encounter moment is absolutely agonising to watch and the scenes in France are almost unbearable. As Robbie walks along the beach at Dunkirk, you’re hit with the full horror and hopelessness of war. Knowing (as the film later shows) how this story is so often told as one of heroism and triumph, only makes the suffering more poignant. The film certainly deserves its R-certificate (I don’t know if it’s a 15 or an 18 in the UK), though I was struck by how shocked the film is at the shocking elements it contains. The use of language, the sexual images, the images of death and injury are not shied away from, but nor are they normalised in the film. The audience is shocked and is meant to be, and I think that’s actually a good thing. It’s a tricky film to watch if you’re squeamish – some of the most gory scenes are subtitled, so if you look away, you’ll need fluent French to follow the dialogue.

It’s interesting how both Atonement and The Golden Compass, in their own ways, manage to convey so vividly the hopelessness of life without Christ. Tomorrow, I plan to see P.S. I Love You, which I’m strongly hoping will end on a happier note!