I don't have all the words right now but this film is a work of art.

hyped garbage

A Masterpiece!

An old-fashioned movie made with new-fashioned finesse.

i saw this film about 22-23 years ago, with the person that is now my wife. it was a period of our life when we used to go to the movies at least 2 times in a week, so every now and then we would choose not a hit movie or a personal favorite directors' one but a critics' favorite title or a festival prize winner. "the long day closes" was just nominated for the Palme d'Or at Cannes film festival and we sat down with the awareness that it could have been a "slow paced but emotionally deep kind of story" or sort of. and so it was, but the only thing i remember clearly is that at one point there was a frame-shot of a Persian carpet that stood the same for minutes and minutes: i swear, all the people in the cinema were looking to each other to understand what was going on: was it the movie or a sort of "accidental" pause in the reeling. when we realize there were no accident, seeing an almost imperceptible moving of the shadow over the carpet, well that was the only moment in my entire life i was seriously thinking of leaving the cinema before the end of the movie. maybe if i watch this movie now, i could possibly see it in another and well approached perspective, but take this "review" as it was just written just 2 or 3 days after the release of the movie by an occasional film-goer. i remember that in 1992 my favorite movies were"glangarry glen ross", Coppola's "Dracula" Allen's "husband and wives" "the crying game" "the unforgiven" but i enjoyed also such hits as "Basic instinct" "lethal weapon3" and "sister act".

The Long Day Closes is a really eloquent piece, a film that tiptoes along the fine line that separates film from documentary as you gradually realise Terrance Davies could well be recreating not his own childhood but his own childhood memories. The film is a docu-drama of sorts; allowing us scenes that would be able to worm their way into any period-piece film from this era but pausing for its director/narrator to document the protagonist's feelings and views on the world around him. Similalry to the only other Davies film from around this time that I've seen, that being Distant Voices Still Lives, The Long Day Closes is a celebration just as it is a reconciliation of times gone by; delivered in bouts of dream-like scenes and haunting colours that are complimented by Davies' assured narration.Most of the brilliance regarding those scenes lie in just how much is revealed and when. The boy at the centre of the film is Bud (McCormack), an eleven year old in 1950s Liverpool as living at home, school, trips to the cinema and general loneliness lie within and around him. Some scenes are longer and more drawn out than others, echoing that some memories within us are longer or clearer than others. Most glimpses of past times within our sub-conscious are brief affairs: something someone said; a particular emotion when something happened; an expression on someone's face. Here, Davies fleshes out some but shies away from others and whilst this isn't a robbing of the audience, what it is, is evidence to support this is as true-a depiction as possible based on the makers own recollections.Some scenes in particular I'm reminded of is the sequence during which a school teacher stands at a blackboard and outlines different types of erosion. The take is much longer than most others and particular details are fed to us, much in the same manner with a conversation between two people in the kitchen about half way through when one of them begins to do impressions of famous people – particular emphasis is drawn to fine details, something the film does not feed us an awful lot of so when it does, it stands out.A scene that works in favour of Davies' approach that points out some occasions are more memorable to this boy than others is a scene in which an immigrant from the Caribbean accidentally enters the family's property and is ushered out in a hostile manner. The film pauses for the recollection of this memory but does not linger for the aftermath when tensions have been risen and degrees of aggression and urgency have come about during which certain family members must've interacted with one another about the event. Maybe they did, but Bud (or Davies) does not remember and we don't get to see them, even if they probably did occur.So rather than robbing the audience of what might've been quite an interesting scene, Davies uses his artistic license to skip over such scenes and move on. When it comes to the British film industry and our 'period' films or 'heritage' films that recount years gone by, the usual first port of call is the Merchant Ivory department or something like Elizabeth or Pride and Prejudice. While these are all fine and everything, it is period films like The Long Day Closes that will always be better; as a recounting of events by someone who was actually there and is documenting what it was like to grow up and, ultimately, live at a specific time. While Pride and Prejudice is all fine and good, it does veer more towards escapism than anything because no one that is around either now or was in 2005, will ever know first hand what it was like living at the time these period dramas were set. Davies' film is the more honest, the more realistic, the more enjoyable and, ultimately, the more memorable film.The film's key scenes that permit familiarity lie in the iconography of doors and windows, enabling Bud to 'look' out of them or enter through them as Davies 'looks' back and documents. The rain blows in and the snow rages by, maybe there was an occasion it was heavier one day than the last. Doors – we make our way through the dining room doors and we see the family readying to eat a Christmas dinner; such an image is no doubt part of the narrator's memory, as it may be with everyone's. Perhaps we all remember a particular storm from our childhood that was more vicious than any other, or a snowfall that was the deepest we'd ever seen. Davies does, it seems, and he brings it to a cinema screen using the approach that he does.One of the more sly occasions that Davies includes is the scene in which I'm sure someone refers to Bud's mother as 'Mrs. Davies'. Such a citation surely emphasises further than most of this piece was based around Davies' childhood if the mother of the boy we're seeing it from was named as such. The Long Day Closes is very much worth the time, a recounting of 1950s Liverpudlian life as told by someone who was there, not a ho-hum escapist fable about romance between girls hundreds of years ago – it is real and stylish and extremely rewarding.

It's kind of fascinating to me that so many reviewers consider this a masterpiece. I am not a dullard as far as quality films go, and I will agree that from a technical filming standpoint, as well as for several of the characters portrayed, the film is in an award-worthy class. But there is no sense (for me) of this film actually going anywhere; I mean, taking the viewer anywhere. It is a series of mood scenes, perhaps remarkable as such, but I want more from a film. I look for story and movement and a fulfillment of arrival, none of which did I find in this film. Yes, it might be considered poetry on film . . . but there is much poetry that I cannot live with for the same reason: that it paints pictures without going anywhere.One thing further to be said is that it documents a mid-century English childhood, which is necessarily limited in its universality. I was personally appalled at what a young British boy had to live through, in that time and place. Having grown up in America just a decade earlier, I can authoritatively say that the contrast is immense. I cannot help wondering if this contrast has had some effect on those reviewing the film so favorably. In other words, could there be a tendency to judge the film entirely on its 'filmic magic' (which I acknowledge is there) and completely ignore its lack of relevance to the nature of one's actual recalled experience?

"The Long Day Closes" has the kind of emotional impact that the Hollywood bunch could only dream about. There is very little in the way of plot--just a series of memories, as if a family photo album had come to life: like the family at Christmas time. No forced, artificial story lines, like Mama's Dying and We Gotta Pay the Rent--just a perfect rendering of a certain family at a certain time. If you're expecting some sappy tear-jerker, oh boy, do you have the wrong movie. The images here are so powerful, the use of music and old film dialog is so effective. I feel sorry for people who found this movie boring. You obviously didn't get it. Your loss.