★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆
Here’s an almost sickly sweet weepie pulled from the pages
of author-screenwriter Jojo Moyes’ best-seller (aside: has there ever been a worst-selling novel
adapted for the screen?). Emilia Clarke stars as boundlessly positive Louisa, who
– after losing her job in a small-town café – lands a position caring for paralyzed,
wheelchair-bound Will Traynor (Sam Claflin). After a somewhat icy introduction,
the two form a strong bond that threatens to grow beyond that of carer and
patient, despite Lou’s loyalty to fitness-obsessed boyfriend Patrick (Matthew
Lewis).
In the weeks leading up to release, controversy surrounding
the hiring of a non-disabled actor for Claflin’s role was the hot topic, and if
the movie actually had anything that
deep or insightful to say regarding the experience of being physically disabled,
it would have presented a significant issue for criticism. The truth is, Me Before You leaves a sizable portion
of controversy at the door, far more concerned with presenting two of the
industry’s most handsome, up-and-coming young stars getting along famously.
Performances are exceedingly earnest: Clarke plays Louisa as
the most insatiably chipper human on the planet, an overdose of sunbeam smiles and
worryingly sentient eyebrows that make The
Force Awakens’ Rey resemble a dour-faced Linkin Park devotee. Claflin
continues on his mission to replace the Earth’s atmosphere with concentrated
charisma, and Lewis gives the character of Patrick some sense of empathy in a
role which almost escapes the ‘disgruntled git boyfriend’ cookie-cutter.
Charles Dance and Janet McTeer bring some thespian credence to
the table as Will’s parents, and moments focused on their plight thankfully aim
more for a gentle tenderness than the bludgeoning misery of comparable illness
romance The Fault in Our Stars. The burden
of possibly controversial material is largely placed upon their shoulders, too.
The film is ultimately held back by a constant grapple with
itself: a sense of uniqueness is just about realised by beautiful
cinematography and knowing nods to its target audience, before being stifled by
adherence to all the usual plot contrivances and massively broad emotional
strokes. Despite small efforts to the contrary, it does what it says on the
tin; delivering a little joy, a little heartbreak, and extended scenes of
Charles Dance smiling in a way that doesn’t signify immediate dismemberment.
