The Night We Called It a Day (2003)

Stylish but barely mediocre overall

Good concept, poorly executed.

n my opinion it was a great movie with some interesting elements, even though having some plot holes and the ending probably was just too messy and crammed together, but still fun to watch and not your casual movie that is similar to all other ones.

If you're interested in the topic at hand, you should just watch it and judge yourself because the reviews have gone very biased by people that didn't even watch it and just hate (or love) the creator. I liked it, it was well written, narrated, and directed and it was about a topic that interests me.

The Night we called it a Day is the kind of movie that crops up every now and again to embarrass the Australian film industry. In between making superb movies like Animal Kingdom and Snowtown, crap like this comes along. Masquerading as a comedy (game is up pretty quickly, as it's not funny), this is really just a platform for celebrity bashing, especially American celebrity-bashing. The typical, shameful tall poppy nonsense that occurs in Australia, mainly thanks to its lower- than-gutter media. Add in a pro-union stance, and the movie is basically just propaganda.Incredibly one-dimensional: the Australians are all lovable larrikins, the Americans (incl Sinatra) are all heartless high-and- mighty boofheads. Wonder how this movie went down in the US, or among Frank Sinatra fans (and I'm not one, by the way)?Dialogue is shockingly bad - almost every line is cringeworthy. Acting is equally pathetic. Joel Edgerton is lucky his career survived this. Dennis Hopper and Melanie Griffith must have REALLY needed the money.The only positive thing about the movie is the performance of Rose Byrne. She rose above the woeful plot and direction and delivered the only convincing performance of the movie.

I watched this title billed as a comedy. It's not really because there aren't any laughs in it.This film gives a version of events from a notorious Frank Sinatra tour of Australia in the 70s. I'm not a big Sinatra fan - but I rented this film for a £1 from my satellite provider. You can afford to go wrong for a pound.Sadly it isn't a comedy on any level really. It just doesn't function in that way. It's a solid (solid to wooden) sentimental romance story though - gentle if somewhat uninvolving, take it or leave it affair. Roguish main character with straight-laced opposite number - will they or won't they chemistry (which never really becomes that compelling).A good solid performance can be found with pretty much every actor involved in this uninspiring, two dimensional script in a robust and professional fashion.Nobody really manages to lift the script with a standout display.If I would offer any criticism, it would be the lack of character development. The characters are incredibly under developed and shallow. We know that Audry Appleby is supposed to be intelligent because Rod Blue clumsily points out her degree certificate, and she stands next to it in shot a couple of times. We know that Rod Blue is a bit of an Aussie bloke because he gets into a couple of fights (you see the injuries, but generally not the fights). That's about the depth that you get offered.I would describe this as forgettable and bland. I wouldn't recommend it - albeit, it's far from awful. You never really care what the film is ultimately going to culminate in. It won't irritate you, you won't dislike it - there is nothing to be offended by here. They are remarkably delicate with the portrayal of Frank Sinatra himself - so even the fans won't be barbed.Watch it or don't watch it, but don't expect too much.

This movie had fairly good reviews when it hit the cinemas here - and I frankly expected a lot more than it delivered.Having been around at the time, I wondered then why so much was being made of Sinatra's well known behaviour and his hatred of the press in general. I thought it was a predictable series of events blown up - mainly by Union intervention - into an imagined insult on Australia and all it stood for. A classic example of our cultural cringe. That the aforesaid cringe is still rampant is illustrated by the fact that anyone decided to make this movie.Itis totally impossible to cast anyone successfully as Frank Sinatra - the man was unique in so many ways. Dennis Hopper was I suppose a reasonable compromise, but his grating voice and total lack of charm spoilt much of the movie for me. Sinatra had a musical speaking voice, as well as his singing one - and his charm (when he chose to turn it on) was inescapable. Anyone unfamiliar with the Man, watching this movie would wonder what all the fuss was about. The ludicrous portrayal of Bob Hawke, a man who excelled in being ludicrous, was another disappointment. Tom Burlinson's delivery of the few songs was, as usual, competent and wooden - Hopper's "on-stage" lip-synching missed everything that was magical in a Sinatra performance. Melanie Griffith was - Melanie Griffith, the rest of the cast was competent and did their best with what in the end was nothing more than a fairytale wound loosely round an actual series of events.Not a totally bad movie - entertaining in parts - but on the whole a waste of time and money.

When this opened in London - today - I attended the first performance and found myself alone. I had reservations just from the casting, I mean come on, Dennis Hopper, the epitome of hippie/rock playing Sinatra, the epitome of sophisticated cool? What next, Eminem as Cliff Richard. I hoped at least for a generous amount of Sinatra singing but even that was 1) strictly rationed and 2) performed by a Sinatra imitator and then, to add insult to injury, the end credits roll over Elvis Presley's Tutti Frutti. What passes for a plot centres on the infamous Australian tour of 1974 when Sinatra spoke his mind as usual and wound up a virtual prisoner in his hotel room until honour had been satisfied. A sub-plot that threatens to hi-jack the movie involves the young Rock promoter who brought Sinatra to Australia and a girl who had fancied him since they were kids. Basically we're talking rubbish. I thought Baz Lurhman's Moulin Rouge was about as low as you could get but here that Australian has competition from another. Dire.