Me Before You
(2016)
(SPOILERS) Me Before
You makes for a surprisingly not
insufferable tragi-romance, although that’s largely down to the winning
performances of Emilia Clarke and Sam Claflin. An adaption of Jojo Moyles novel
of the same name, by Moyles herself and directed by Thea Sharrock, this tale of
a quadriplegic bent on going through with assisted suicide suffers from the
combination of tackling difficult subject matter but making it accessible, with
the result that it ends up being just another tearjerker.
Part of the problem is that debut feature director Sharrock
has diligently thumbed through the romcom 101 rule book for every single choice
or decision. Enormous signs hang over each ringingly obvious heartbroken or
affirmative musical cue that can be timed to turn up on the soundtrack every
five minutes, most brazenly in requisite by-the-numbers montage sequences. Of
the latter, the most insufferable finds Clarke’s Lou Clark, in a bid to produce
a “reconsider your options” bucket list showing how liveable life is – look how
well that worked out for Freeman and Nicholson – thumbing through brochures, books and the
Internet for activities to distract Claflin’s Will Traynor from his suicide
fixation.
Obviously, grouchy Will (“I don’t do anything, Miss Clarke. I sit, and just about exist”) is going
to be slowly warmed up by life-loving Lou, and before long he’s showing her
subtitled films, trundling around and about, going to the races, to orchestral
recitals, her birthday (much to the annoyance of her boyfriend, Matthew Lewis)
and even the wedding of his ex, where the two admit their feelings for each
other and promptly take a holiday in Mauritius.
But alas, poor Lou discovers Will’s intentions have not
changed, and he still wants to head for Switzerland. There’s been criticism
that Me Before You romanticises and
condones Will’s third act decision and is consequently irresponsible and
insulting to all those who live with disabilities, don’t opt to “take the easy
way out” and don’t see life as a terrible burden that can only be alleviated by
ending it all. That’s a fair position to take if you see movies as morally
obliged to advocate the correct and most positive viewpoint in every scenario.
Otherwise, it’s ridiculous, and you should tell the story you’re inspired to
tell, and trust your audience is mature enough to recognise that one
character making the "wrong" decision is not necessarily an endorsement or
recommendation to everyone in that situation. Really, it shouldn’t need saying,
but it’s the common problem whenever something in the arts is tarred with the
brush of responsibility to society as a whole, leapt upon by a media keen to
blur the lines between fact and fiction.
For my part, I didn’t take away that Will’s decision as
noble or honourable (“I can’t be the kind
of man who just accepts this, I don’t want you to miss all the things I can’t
give you”), although more emotionally fragile audience members might see it
that way. The problem with the movie is that, by its final reel, it has become
so sodden with didactic, emotionally bowel-moving dirges, it eschews much
resonance at all. Another sugar-coated Hollywood weepie, shamelessly manipulative
and heartstring pulling, which eventually becomes a bit wearing.
As noted, however, Claflin and Clarke who make this work as
well as it does, and at times they’re so good you nearly forget that you’re
being played like a violin. Particularly Clarke, who can come across as a bit
wooden elsewhere (Game of Thrones,
anyone? Mentioning Terminator: Genisys
would be plain unfair) Also on hand are Charles Dance in a surprise nice guy
dad role, Janet McTeer, who finds much more in Will’s mum than there is on the
page, Jenna “Clara” Coleman as Lou’s sister and Joanna Lumley as a wise soul at
a wedding. Steve Peacocke’s also hugely sympathetic as Nathan’s carer.
Watching beautiful people die tragically but gorgeously (Love Story, Dying Young) is a Hollywood staple, and they rarely make particularly
good movies, feeding on their intended audience’s most self-indulgent,
sentimental impulses, so Me Before You’s
kind of lucky that it’s as unobjectionable as it is.
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.
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