If there are few joys greater than motherhood, there are few fears bigger than having a child go missing. And imagine the circumstances of it: Christine’s son disappears while she is away at work, having broken a promise to take him out. He is her life, she says, and the grieving will never stop, for not only what was but what could have been.

For a woman who has taken upon herself to mother the world’s lost children, this is a tailor-made role. However, Jolie seems to be both straining herself as well as restrained — a woman acting her heart out and, yet, getting none of the heart into it.

And for someone as striking as her, the heavy mascaraed eyes and the jarringly red lips can be too devastatingly distracting. One can realise what she is going through, but the persistent close-ups of her teary eyes don’t make it easier for us to feel it.

While Jolie has herself remarked on the passiveness of her character, the factor could be as well the time when the film is based — this is 1928 — as Eastwood’s no-stress working style. Jolie isn’t the only one; others too suffer the fate of appearing too staged and strait-jacketed, even the guy manning the roadside restaurant. The emotions seem well-rehearsed, the tics too exaggerated.

The Captain of the police force, played by Donovan, is a unidimensional cardboard character, unmoved by even news that 19 other children besides Christine’s may have been axed by a crazed killer. He spends not an anxious moment over it before trying to bury the case.

... contd.