John and I saw The Time Traveler’s Wife yesterday. It was…not very good. But somehow, I’m not disappointed. They didn’t mess with the plot really (didn’t change anything major that would have irritated me), but I didn’t feel…hmm. Anything, for most of it. I don’t know if that’s the actors’ fault or the director’s or the screenplay’s or what, but I was never sucked in. And Eric Bana, while very pretty, has never grabbed me. I’ve only seen him in a couple of movies, but I haven’t believed him in any of his roles. It was nice to watch, and I thought Rachel McAdams was pretty good, but I didn’t really care. And I wanted to. John and I were talking as we left the theater. I called it mediocre. He said I was being too nice. The movie did get me, though, once.
There’s a scene in the book that rips at my heart every time I read it. Every time. And when we got to that scene in the movie, I was braced for it, but apparently they decided to leave that part out. I actually felt relieved, relieved that this movie wasn’t going to make me feel the way the book does, so I could completely put it (this not all that great movie) out of my mind when it was over. But no. They tacked on a version of what kills me in a scene at the end. It worked, and I was a mess leaving the theater. I couldn’t even tell John what it is about that part that turns me into a blubbering mess (couldn’t – still can’t – talk about it without getting upset), but we’ve talked about it before (with regard to the book), so he knows.
Long story short: they didn’t ruin it. It’s not a good movie, but they didn’t ruin the book for me, and it’s entirely possible that if you don’t feel as strongly about the book as I do (or if you haven’t read it), you’ll like it. It’s not a BAD movie. It’s just not good, and I can’t tell if it would stand on its own or not.