The Green Mile film review

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THE GREEN MILE

Some directors make horror movies. Others specialise in the thriller genre. And there are those who favour that trusty blend of romance and comedy.

Frank Darabont makes films from Stephen King novels set in prisons in the past. Or, at least, he has so far. To be fair, the man commanding what he himself admits is the most obscure niche in motion picture history has only helmed two movies to date.

But when your feature length debut has the impact of The Shawshank Redemption, interest in what will come next magnifies considerably.

And if labels like 'outstanding' and 'epic' were appropriate for Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman's heavy portion of porridge, stir up the wallpaper paste and stand by to slap them on all over again, because this is another stunning piece of master craftsmanship.

But something happened to him over sixty years ago that he can't forget, and the story of his time in the Cold Mountain Penitentiary, circa 1935, as chief Death Row prison guard gradually unfolds.

The story of his watch over four men awaiting the long walk over a stretch of green lino that led to the electric chair. The story of his close-knit team (tarnished by one, rogue, sadistic sod) who attempted to breathe a touch of humanity into even these desperate hours.

And the story of the relationship he formed with John Coffey (Michael Clarke Duncan): a giant convicted of brutally killing two young girls. A gentle man. A man afraid of the dark. A man who slowly revealed a gift so astounding it beggared belief.

As ever in novel adaptations, risks abound for the literary enthusiast (and in King's case, there are more than a few). But Darabont clearly numbers firmly among them and probably well up front, for both The Green Mile and Shawshank display such an unstinting, faithful dedication that they're practically King's text writ in celluloid - the sole remaining concern being whether his choice of actors matches the people filling the reader's head.

Well, chances are that even if you didn't have Hanks in mind for the professional but humane and sympathetic Edgecomb, he'll have replaced anyone else by this movie's close, such is the judged tone of yet another reliable, mature performance.

And like a team inspired by a flair sportsman, the rest of this perfectly cast ensemble raise their games to equally high standards - not that the likes of James Cromwell, David Morse, Bonnie Hunt, Sam Rockwell and Michael Jeter aren't accomplished actors anyway.