VISI VIŅA DĒLI / & SONS
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Welcome to the club of books, whisky and jazz.
There was a time when Andrew Dyer was one of the most celebrated writers of his generation. So celebrated, in fact, that people were willing to forgive him almost anything: literary pretensions, a difficult personality, and even success itself.
His novels brought him international acclaim, the admiration of intellectuals, and all the other hazards that tend to accompany fame. But those days are long gone.
For years now, this eccentric literary lion has published nothing, living as a self-imposed recluse in a sprawling Oxfordshire estate. His creative crisis has lasted so long that it has become part of his character, transforming a former bon vivant and ladies’ man into a cantankerous misanthrope with a remarkable gift for making life difficult for both himself and everyone around him.
Conversations with himself, stacks of jazz records and the bitterness of bygone years have become his constant companions.
People are supposed to grow wiser with age. Andrew Dyer chose a different path and invited all of his sons to stay for the weekend.
One way or another, the idea of gathering former wives, grown-up children and decades’ worth of accumulated grievances under one roof was so catastrophically bad that it almost deserved admiration.
The plan was simple enough: a few days in an old English manor house, a chance to heal old wounds, rebuild broken connections and perhaps even achieve a measure of inner peace. The plan was flawless—which, as a rule, is the first warning sign.
And just as you begin to settle back and assume you know exactly where this story is heading—a disillusioned ageing genius, a toxic family, ungrateful children and a closet full of skeletons—the film, with impeccable British politeness, takes a completely unexpected and utterly astonishing turn. Suddenly, everything that seemed familiar and predictable acquires an entirely different meaning.
We would hate to spoil the surprise. Suffice it to say that Pablo Trapero masterfully transforms a witty family drama into something far funnier, more touching and considerably more absurd than you could ever expect.
All that remains is to wish you as much pleasure from this journey as the cast clearly had in bringing this delightful family chaos to life.
There was a time when Andrew Dyer was one of the most celebrated writers of his generation. So celebrated, in fact, that people were willing to forgive him almost anything: literary pretensions, a difficult personality, and even success itself.
His novels brought him international acclaim, the admiration of intellectuals, and all the other hazards that tend to accompany fame. But those days are long gone.
For years now, this eccentric literary lion has published nothing, living as a self-imposed recluse in a sprawling Oxfordshire estate. His creative crisis has lasted so long that it has become part of his character, transforming a former bon vivant and ladies’ man into a cantankerous misanthrope with a remarkable gift for making life difficult for both himself and everyone around him.
Conversations with himself, stacks of jazz records and the bitterness of bygone years have become his constant companions.
People are supposed to grow wiser with age. Andrew Dyer chose a different path and invited all of his sons to stay for the weekend.
One way or another, the idea of gathering former wives, grown-up children and decades’ worth of accumulated grievances under one roof was so catastrophically bad that it almost deserved admiration.
The plan was simple enough: a few days in an old English manor house, a chance to heal old wounds, rebuild broken connections and perhaps even achieve a measure of inner peace. The plan was flawless—which, as a rule, is the first warning sign.
And just as you begin to settle back and assume you know exactly where this story is heading—a disillusioned ageing genius, a toxic family, ungrateful children and a closet full of skeletons—the film, with impeccable British politeness, takes a completely unexpected and utterly astonishing turn. Suddenly, everything that seemed familiar and predictable acquires an entirely different meaning.
We would hate to spoil the surprise. Suffice it to say that Pablo Trapero masterfully transforms a witty family drama into something far funnier, more touching and considerably more absurd than you could ever expect.
All that remains is to wish you as much pleasure from this journey as the cast clearly had in bringing this delightful family chaos to life.
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Where is it happening?
Kino "Splendid Palace", Elizabetes iela 61, Rīga, LV-1050, Latvija, Riga, Latvia
Event Location & Nearby Stays:
Know what’s Happening Next — before everyone else does.
Host or PublisherFestivāls Baltijas Pērle
