Magic in the Moonlight is very pleasant to look at, a vision, but it is certainly not visionary, it’s a bit of a narrative fraud actually, but since the entire operation is generally cute and unassuming, I will just say this is a disappointing film.
Let me say I loved Colin Firth, but then again, I always love Colin firth, I have loved Colin Firth from the very day I first saw him, nearly 30 years ago, as Guy’s Marxist roommate in Another Country. For very a similar reason, I will always love Rupert Graves. I was very young, they were very young, we were all beautiful (well, I had terrible skin back then but you know what I mean).
To be completely honest, I found the first part absolutely delightful. But unfortunately at some point Stanley decides he believes Sophie is a medium and a clairvoyant, he now believes in some sort of unspecified supernatural world and this makes him happy. For the next 20 minutes he is so very happy.
Now, call me a heartless bitch, but why should a belief in the supernatural make anyone happy? I perfectly understand the comfort and consolation that religion carries to believers, and I also understand the curiosity of the scientist in front of an array of potential new discoveries, but here were are talking about a stereotypical supernatural world, with seances, floating candles, clouded visions and telepathy.
Maybe I just lack a sense of wonder. It must be that.
So my take is that Stanley is happy not because he has stopped being a cynical bastard, but because he is in love (but he still does not know). This would be nice, if only it was properly explored, instead of being laid out as a mere artificial mechanism to lead us towards the very obvious ending.
Anyway, I definitely need those shoes.