A rare sighting of Bill Murray in this small but well formed movie about the visit of the stuttering King George VI to FDR's summer hideaway to ask for American help against Germany in 1939. The clash of social mores is well observed with plenty of moments of exquisite awkwardness as Olivia Coleman's more acidic version of the Queen Mother tries to grapple with American manners and the complexities of FDR's harem.
TIFF '12 Take equal parts 'Gosford Park' and 'The King's Speech' and add a touch of bedroom farce and ta-da an oscar bait picture. Often hokey and pretty blatantly offensive in its historical potrayals to be taken seriously. Murray miscast as FDR as is West and its only the actresses who save the film from total disaster. Linney, Colman, Marvel and Williams all at top of their game here. Shame about the script.
Hyde Park on Hudson was okay from a set design and period piece perspective, but despite starring Bill Murray as FDR its just kind of lacking and absent, despite the awkwardness involving cousins (and don't you dare say "but they were 5th cousins!") and hand-jobs.
I realize I'm falling for failed oscar bait here but I liked it. Bill Murray does a mean FDR. Mitchell's direction recalls Altman period pieces in its details. Why the hate? because it's an FDR movie that doesn't directly deal with the New Deal or WW2? The Clintonian portrait of FDR (he's to the democrats what Reagan is to republicans, in that they prefer to look at him through rose colored glasses). It's nice fluff.
It's two films joined together in the worst possible way. The comedy of manners with FDR and the King & Queen of England is quite enjoyable (God bless Olivia Colman!), but the relationship drama with Bill Murray, Laura Linney, Olivia Williams, and Elizabeth Marvel is God-awful, with career-worst work from nearly everyone involved.
I've seen this film three times now and am hopelessly in love with it. Eschewing historical accuracy, Hyde Park instead concocts a lightly comic revel that happens to feature historical characters. Lingering on fleeting moments in time that come to define the characters in unexpected ways, this film is a surprisingly moving portrait of life's little miracles. A gentle masterpiece.
Remarkably shallow, if beautifully designed, film about a weekend at Franklin D. Roosevelt's weekend retreat, where he hosted the King of England in the days before WWII, the very first visit of a British monarch to American soil. Told through the eyes of his mistress, HYDE PARK ON HUDSON is a mess of wonky characterization and underdeveloped personalities.
What the fucking fuck was this shit? If I wanted to see FDR get a handjob from his cousin I would have role played with my high school history teacher like he asked. Fuck you movie. You wasted both I and BIll Murray's time. You're on the list now of things I reference when comparing things to terminal diseases. "Oh yeah, I have stomach cancer. It's kinda like 'Hyde Park on Hudson' if I'm being honest."
Prime evidence of the depressing Landmarkization of the arthouse scene. Apparently, no one ever went broke crafting some facile farce about the sex lives of dead famous people, the message of which is always the same: The rich and famous are a bunch of neurotic buffoons, just like us! True enough, I suppose, but who gives a shit?