Two movies released in South Florida today originated as novels, and I wrote about them both. I feel it is my duty to warn you of either before you spend ten bucks to check 'em out.
First up: My Sister's Keeper, from the novel by Jodi Picoult. All you really need to know about this one is that it was directed by Nick Cassavetes, who directed and co-wrote The Notebook. And this movie, about a family dealing with a daughter with leukemia, is even more of a weeper than that one. Seriously. I think I cried for two hours. Plus, there's all the fuss with little sister Anna, who has decided to sue for medical emancipation so that she won't be forced to provide a kidney for her dying sister. Do you need to hear more? Read my review, and enter the theater at your own risk.
Second: Cheri, from two novels by French writer Colette, in which a retired courtesan (Michelle Pfeiffer) carries on and then pines for her rival's son (Rupert Friend). At my age, I applaud older woman/younger man stories, and the film is directed by Stephen Frears, whom I generally love (he did The Queen, one of my favorites of the past few years). But since Pfeiffer is about as American as apple pie, hot dogs and losing huge sums of money from your 401K, nothing ever quite feels right about this movie, not even Kathy Bates as the young man's imperious mother (also not terribly French). And this is a very French story. Read my review and then go rent Gigi instead.
The movie that intrigues me most this weekend isn't adapted from a novel, but the screenplay was written by a couple of writers I like: Dave Eggers and Vendela Vida. The movie is Away We Go, directed by Sam Mendes (Revolutionary Road), and it's about a young couple (John Krasinski and Maya Rudolph) looking for a place to settle down before they have their first child. Even Herald critic Rene Rodriguez, who tends to prefer his movies loud and bloody and zombie-laden, liked it. Read his review here.