In East London, a young mother (Williams) adores her 4-year-old son (Johnston) but is unsettled in her life with her bomb-disposal cop husband (Gleaves). Nothing's wrong per se, but she still indulges in some flirting with the rich journalist (McGregor) who lives in the posh house nearby. Then one day a horrific terrorist attack changes all of their lives. While trying to pick herself up and move forward, she begins to bond with her husband's boss (Macfadyen), who feels somehow responsible for what happened.

The principal strength of this film is Williams' superbly internalised performance. This is a woman who's unsettled before tragedy strikes, and what happens pushes her further into the abyss. In many ways, this is an extremely simplistic plot devise, and as a writer Maguire indulges in too many convenient connections and awkward liaisons. These things aren't very believable or compelling, so it's left to the cast to convince us that the internal emotional pathways are true.

And this is what Williams manages, against all odds. Against this, the normally fine McGregor seems extremely flippant as the lusty neighbour, but since he's superb at playing both flippancy and lustiness, the character is extremely believable, if not likeable. On the other hand, Macfadyen is stuck in the film's most thankless role, which isn't developed nearly enough to make his plot strand even remotely compelling.

Trough all of this, Maguire maintains a slick and grounded visual sense of style, glossing over the plot holes (where's her mobile?) and throwing in lots of scenes that are horrific and sad or packed with grief and guilt. When the story shifts into an examination of the survivors of the bombers (played by Khokhar and Behar), the film wobbles yet again. But it maintains its connection with us through Williams' fiercely open-hearted portrayal of a woman losing her grip on her life. And this is just emotional and offbeat enough to make the film worth a look.

themes, language, violence, sexuality

4.Sep.08