Gone, Baby, Gone

I was gone from about 3PM this afternoon walking to the train station to catch a 4PM train to watch Gone, Baby, Gone at the 34th Street AMC Loews. I zipped the winter lining into my coat and wore it over a sweater, jeans, and watch cap, perfect for the brisk weather. The incessant internal chorus as I walked was "I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles". (Huh?)

So anyway, the movie. As you may know, I'm not the biggest Dennis Lehane fan. Though I found his Kenzie-Gennaro books compelling, I also thought he tried to do too much. By the end of the series, I'm not sure the books were P.I. anymore, and I'm not sure that was a good thing. That said, Lehane's trademark put-'em-through-hell plot is tailor-made for a movie, and Ben Affleck nails Boston's local color so squarely the accents and attitudes grated on this New Yorker's ears. Wicked.

The performances are all good. Casey Affleck especially nails Patrick Kenzie's hewn righteousness. I did think there were a few lulls. For those who've seen the movie, I would have ended it with Angie's line, "There's nothing to say."

All in all, a keeper.