Review of Tamara Drewe (2010) by Nicola D — 11 Feb 2011

Some writers flesh realised characters into vessels of change. Some writers delve into the depths of meaning in society or relationships. Some writers create a mood distinct within their story. And some writers pen 'Tamara Drewe'. A mish-mash attempt of these traits, 'Tamara Drewe' is a film that sets itself in a quaint plain, with wandering souls drifting whimsically. This changes when a catalyst from the past - a girl - reappears. She has blossomed, and so too does the quiet village.

This is a fanciful film that leads nowhere. Tamara Drewe as a title character is flat and uncaring. She has little in the backbone of her life given to the audience and undergoes minimal change. She is portrayed as a woman renewed - and uses this second lease of confidence with little care for those close to her, but with a clear head of perceptiveness. Gemma Arterton's batting eyes and smulder only get this character so far, and when a film revolves around such a void character - little more can be done. The film attempts to turn this into a point of recovery and learning by its conclusion - but it is too far gone to sway the audience.

Yet its writers try. At its core, the film is about the writing process and the necessity for inspiration. If there's one writing technique that Tamara Drewe grasps firmly - it is irony. It is ironical that a film about creativity remains vapid with a handful of thematic cliche's. Its notions of adultery, of catalysts for change, of the deceptions and worth in love, and of attention are dull and frustrating. The film attempts to use a running theme of lies as being a charge for story ideas - and thinks its slyly using this as a meta device for its own plot. It fails.

Somehow though, the films production works vigorously to fight back for some pride. The rocky couple of Roger Allam and Tamsin Greig are the real meat of the story, and a supporting turn from Bill Camp makes for a trifecta that would have worked much better as a story on its own.