Hereafter

A globetrotting, partially subtitled dramatic meditation on the great beyond isn’t exactly typical Eastwood material, so give him a nod for ambition. As for accomplishment… a definite ‘hmm’. Certainly, the movie peaks early as a CGI-assisted tsunami hits the Thai coastline, where French TV presenter Cécile de France has a brush with mortality so close she glimpses the other side. She’s not alone, as her ongoing fortunes complement those of a disgruntled San Francisco psychic Matt Damon, whose gift has become a burden, and a London schoolboy (George McLaren) coping with the loss of a sibling.

Although winningly free of religiosity or new age mumbo-jumbo, Peter Morgan’s script plays fast and loose in weaving everything together, contriving a frankly ridiculous finale wilfully unsuited to the dramatic and metaphysical weight thrust upon it. Meanwhile, Clint takes every scene at the same pace, and ladles on his own mushy score. The result may not plumb Shyamalanian awfulness, but if you did get to the afterlife you’d hope they weren’t playing this movie.