My Policeman movie review: Love called, and it ain't much impressed with Harry Styles & Co.

3/5

STORY: Bouncing back and forth between two timelines, and two very different worlds, really, My Policeman is a deepdive into the repercussions of forbidden love—that unsuspecting spouse of a shield, the blatant selfishness that often circles socially unaceptable relationships, and the hurt that just wouldn't subside. Michael Grandage's glare-back at 1950s post-war homsexual love, especailly society's hatred of it, is zealous yet jejune. 

REVIEW: A hot summer afternoon in Venice, with an obnoxiously pretty and oh-so-very-naked Tom (Harry Styles) staring out the window, and a burning cigrette on the verge of being stomped on... I mean, what's not to love?! Honestly, a lot of it. My Policeman guises itself as a love saga that had blossomed between two men from the opposite spectrum of society—one being the art curator Patrick (David Dawson) and the other, Tom, a policeman, of course—when same-sex relationships meant judicial custody; the ruthless 1950s-60s Britain, and never truly dwindled away with the harshness of decades, heartbreaks and even deception. In truth, it is, at best, a soft porn with rich aesthetics: like a lover who mildly cares, or a cold heart that occasionally pounds. 

When she was younger, Marion (Emma Corrin) was besotted with Tom but Tom's heart was with Patrick, and Patrick's with Tom. Together, the men, device a plan to make Marion their cover and it worked, untill it did not. More on that in the film itself.

Heartbreak manoeuvres decades and life plants a near-pitiable Patrick (Rupert Everett) at the doorstep of his former lover Tom (Linus Roache) and wife Marion (Gina McKee). Director Michael Grandage and screewriter Ron Nyswaner wished to marry romanticism with post-war depression but what My Policeman is is a wishy-washy combination of selfish love (pretending to be forbidden, for garnering sympathy) and a lot of steamy sex to pay homage to Harry Styles' flair and flamboyance, and of course his rendevous with sexuality. 

My Policeman finds its lifeguard, acting-wise, in a young and expressive Emma Corrin. As a much-in-love teenager from the bygone era, Emma is simplicity personified and demonstrates 10 emotions in five seconds flat. Her vulnerability complements Styles' measured coldness as Tom and Dawson's innate skill to manipulate as Patrick. The older lot, from McKee to Roache, are what one would expect an actor to be like with years of experience behind: emerged in the role, however half-baked. 

Unfortunately, My Policeman is not committed to its narrative, or even the general idea of forbideen love on celluoid, but is a slave to its star-cast-pleasing tendencies. Guess what, Real Love just called and it ain't much impressed with Harry Styles & Co. 

VERDICT: Without a shadow of a doubt, My Policeman is a movie for Harry Styles' fans and anyone wanting to see gorgeous men butt-naked. If you are looking for some weekend sobbing session, this ain't the movie for you.