This story of a Yorkshire cop, Ronald Craven, who pursues an investigation of the murder of his daughter that leads to political intrigue did not have enough going for it for me to feel that it was worth the five hour investment.
The initial sequences could have been more focused so that the main players and their functions were more clearly identified. Between all the ministers, policemen, agents, hearing attendees, and so forth, it took awhile to sort them all out. Then there are characters that come out of nowhere whose role I was never certain of, like Clemmy who was introduced simply as "a friend of Jedburgh." Before we have any idea about her, Craven is in bed with her.
A major irritant for me was Craven's being talked to by his dead daughter Emma. She not only talks to him, but appears as a ghost image. Maybe the screenwriter was thinking of the effectiveness of Shakespeare's using the ghost of Hamlet's father in "Hamlet." But we are not talking "Hamlet" here, since the ghost of Craven's daughter gives advice at the level of how to load laundry. I think the use of Emma's ghost came from the perception that the story needed an attractive female in the cast. Not content to borrow from Shakespeare, the screenwriter took a page out of Bergman's "The Virgin Spring" by having a mysterious spring appear at the site of Emma's murder.
There are a host of improbabilities and near absurdities. How was it that Craven was able to get entry to an empty control center where he could break into an MI6 computer? How did the people at Northmoor know that Craven et al. were coming? How did Nedburgh escape from Northmoor? Why were the Brits secretly processing plutonium in the first place?--the U.S. and Britain had been cooperating closely on nuclear development since the 1950s. The map of the mine was one hundred years old but "had not changed an inch." Really? The installation of a nuclear facility and bomb shelters had not altered the plans in the interim? And the idea that an old phone dating from the 1950s would still have a direct connection to a closet at 10 Downing Street was rather absurd--even Dick Tracy rarely used such a contrived escape. I could go on.
Joe Don Baker really gets into his role as the spunky and witty CIA agent Darius Jedburgh and he is the bright spot as far as the acting goes. The rest of the cast turns in journeyman's work. I found Bob Peck's performance a bit flat, but then the role did not demand much more than he manfully handle his grief, which he accomplished by looking worried and glum.
There is some heavy pontificating near the end between Jedburgh and Craven about the outcome of the standoff between mankind and the earth. Can mankind ultimately destroy the earth or can the earth always be able to handle whatever mankind can throw at it? I think that if mankind threw a full scale nuclear war at the earth, then earth may survive, but mankind would not.
Willie Nelson's song "Time of the Preacher" comes up two or three times and from that I deduced that it must have some deep significant message that applies to the film, but I could never figure that out. Maybe the screenwriter just liked the song? Initially I found the guitar score by Eric Clapton and Michael Kamen to be creative and intriguing, but it soon became repetitive and monotonous.
I thought the mini-series "State of Play" was fantastic, but "Edge of Darkness" was pretty much lost on me.
The initial sequences could have been more focused so that the main players and their functions were more clearly identified. Between all the ministers, policemen, agents, hearing attendees, and so forth, it took awhile to sort them all out. Then there are characters that come out of nowhere whose role I was never certain of, like Clemmy who was introduced simply as "a friend of Jedburgh." Before we have any idea about her, Craven is in bed with her.
A major irritant for me was Craven's being talked to by his dead daughter Emma. She not only talks to him, but appears as a ghost image. Maybe the screenwriter was thinking of the effectiveness of Shakespeare's using the ghost of Hamlet's father in "Hamlet." But we are not talking "Hamlet" here, since the ghost of Craven's daughter gives advice at the level of how to load laundry. I think the use of Emma's ghost came from the perception that the story needed an attractive female in the cast. Not content to borrow from Shakespeare, the screenwriter took a page out of Bergman's "The Virgin Spring" by having a mysterious spring appear at the site of Emma's murder.
There are a host of improbabilities and near absurdities. How was it that Craven was able to get entry to an empty control center where he could break into an MI6 computer? How did the people at Northmoor know that Craven et al. were coming? How did Nedburgh escape from Northmoor? Why were the Brits secretly processing plutonium in the first place?--the U.S. and Britain had been cooperating closely on nuclear development since the 1950s. The map of the mine was one hundred years old but "had not changed an inch." Really? The installation of a nuclear facility and bomb shelters had not altered the plans in the interim? And the idea that an old phone dating from the 1950s would still have a direct connection to a closet at 10 Downing Street was rather absurd--even Dick Tracy rarely used such a contrived escape. I could go on.
Joe Don Baker really gets into his role as the spunky and witty CIA agent Darius Jedburgh and he is the bright spot as far as the acting goes. The rest of the cast turns in journeyman's work. I found Bob Peck's performance a bit flat, but then the role did not demand much more than he manfully handle his grief, which he accomplished by looking worried and glum.
There is some heavy pontificating near the end between Jedburgh and Craven about the outcome of the standoff between mankind and the earth. Can mankind ultimately destroy the earth or can the earth always be able to handle whatever mankind can throw at it? I think that if mankind threw a full scale nuclear war at the earth, then earth may survive, but mankind would not.
Willie Nelson's song "Time of the Preacher" comes up two or three times and from that I deduced that it must have some deep significant message that applies to the film, but I could never figure that out. Maybe the screenwriter just liked the song? Initially I found the guitar score by Eric Clapton and Michael Kamen to be creative and intriguing, but it soon became repetitive and monotonous.
I thought the mini-series "State of Play" was fantastic, but "Edge of Darkness" was pretty much lost on me.