Saving Grace

Bomb Rating: 

This film comes at a time when I'm absolutely disgusted by the modern audience's inability to grasp anything that might make them think for even a minute. Basically, what audiences want from their films are the same things they want from their dogs -- companionship and unconditional love. The second a film takes a dump on the living room carpet, it's off to the gas chamber.

That "Saving Grace" was considered enough of an independent film to be accepted into the Sundance Film Festival pretty much sums up what a joke Sundance (and independent film) has become. I mean, this movie is being marketed on the sole idea that people will have a great time watching old women eat cereal straight from the box and giggle after smoking dope.

This is just a cutesy cliché used strictly for marketing's sake. It's much more likely that the women would sit around talking about life and coming up with alternatingly profound, ridiculous and disjointed statements broken up by the occasional "Ensure" guzzling contest. The women get this marijuana, incidentally, from Grace (Brenda Blethyn), who ends up growing the stuff in her greenhouse after her dead husband leaves her with a huge debt. She starts growing it as a favor to her soon-to-be-unemployed housekeeper, Matthew (Craig Ferguson). Soon, she discovers that her gardening talents can make her a lot of money.

The entire success of the film rests on the concept of older, respectable people doing things they wouldn't normally do. Gee, that's kind of like "The Full Monty" and "Waking Ned Devine." The Brits and the Irish are so damn good at being cute it's kind of a shock they don't get along better.

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