Off-puttingly amicable (or amicably off-putting, I'm not sure) at the start, hushed and bruising by the end. The sound design is singularly unnerving. Makes 1999 look like a long time ago in its frozen portrait of industrial estates, busted allotments, factories and tenement housing. Lots of sublimated violence.
Superb and controlled performance by Bob Hoskins. Felicia's Journey ironically revolves heavily around Hoskins' character. The film turns out to be an understated thriller with a dominant and poignant subplot, a metaphor for the historical oppression of the Irish people by England. The ending is disappointingly puzzling and anticlimactic.
Deeply unsettling, knockout performances, beautiful use of light, but somehow not quite as powerful as it should have been. The heavy-handed way that the maternal specter appears places a Freudian wet blanket over what could have been a gripping thriller about misogyny.