An elegantly made attempt to transport the Pulitzer prize-winning novel to the screen boasts a strong cast but a confused emotional focus
Is Donna Tartt’s Pulitzer prize-wining novel The Goldfinch unadaptable? Is it possible to condense 784 globetrotting pages of romance, terrorism, grief, drug addiction and art world espionage into a coherent and dramatically satisfying movie? After 149 minutes of Brooklyn director John Crowley’s much-anticipated, and much-feared, attempt, the answer appears to be … shrug emoji?
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