Brooklyn is an unfathomably mawkish period drama centered on Irish immigrant Eilis Lacey’s (Saoirse Ronan) life anew in the titular New York City borough. She remains reasonably unburdened by everything until the handsome young Tony (Emory Cohen) – a suitably attractive Italian local – almost instantaneously sweeps her off her feet. Eilis continues to battle waning homesickness in the coming days until an unforeseeable tragedy brings her back to her native Ireland and a potential new suitor, forcing her to inevitably make a firm decision about an increasingly uncertain future.
Please believe me when I say that Brooklyn‘s tidy disposition borders on disgraceful. In giving credit where its due, Nick Hornby knows just how to pander to a particular audience to staggering success, as in the man sitting to my immediate left wept uncontrollably at several key latter act moments. The film’s entirely saccharine nature works to its advantage in this regard only, failing to captivate those like yours truly once any semblance of mid-century reality is taken into consideration.
I’m not trying to dog the film for being decidedly idealistic in its telling of Eilis’ story, yet for her to remain this completely unhindered by anything but seasickness in the midst of uprooting her life is hard to overlook. Barring the forced sympathy card that serves as Eilis’ return trip impetus, Brooklyn as a mere love story set against a timely situational backdrop is still glaringly rote. Girl meets boy and the two hit the ground running toward a very serious relationship, of which is rendered just strong enough to tug at your heartstrings when the two are separated.
It isn’t out-and-out unbearable as a lavishly rendered slice of young love in a particular time and place, but Brooklyn is only a cut above similarly stilted sap that streamlines itself to accentuate its elementary-level sentimentality. The desired result is one that’s partially shameful in intention even if the film’s earnest production values suggest otherwise, leaving me mostly disappointed in pondering what could’ve been should the narrative not have steeped itself so fervently in conventionality. Brooklyn is a steadfast tearjerker for sure, meaning it already has and will continue to find its intended audience as countless comparable efforts have proven time and again.