Shot in Fincher Brown Vision with lots of piss-yellows and varying shades of brown and black, the film is eye-candy to the extreme, with beautiful and evocative production design by Claude Paré, and a terrific sense of how to fully utilize the 2.35:1 frame by cinematographer David Lanzenberg, who also photographed the exceedingly stylish thriller The Signal. The kooky story, which is narrated by Hugh Ross(!), involves a car accident and lightning strike that somehow prevents the well-dressed and extremely attractive Blake Lively from ever aging. So she spends the decades mostly alone, births a daughter, and never allows herself to fall in love (well, only a couple of times…).
Throughout the years, she’s forced to repeatedly move in an effort to keep her strange secret hidden from anyone who she comes into contact with, only allowing the information to pass to her only child, played as a grown up by Ellen Burstyn. Harrison Ford has some strong scenes as one of her old romantic entanglements as he crosses paths with her 40 years later in a wonderful bit of contrived scripting. But to complain about the artificiality of this movie is pointless; it’s built on a massive suspension of disbelief that you have to accept right from the start. It’s a sumptuous and silly film, nothing spectacular by any means, but surprising in its level of artistic elegance and attention to visual detail, while serving up a wild story that stays engaging because of the performances and the dedication of all involved.
Review by Nick Clement