Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Directed by Stephen Daldry. Starring Tom Hanks, Sandra Bullock, Thomas Horn, Max von Sydow, Viola Davis, John Goodman, Jeffrey Wright, Zoe Caldwell 12A cert, general release, 129 min

LAST MONTH Extremely Loud and Incredibly Closebecame the worst- reviewed film in the history of aggregate critique shrines Rotten Tomatoes and Metacritic to wrangle a place on the Oscar shortlist. How, asked pundits and wags, did this unlovely muddle make the cut when plenty of accomplished, brighter prospects ( A Dangerous Method, Drive, Shame, Melancholia, The Muppets) went a-begging?

The answer is simple: because it’s the Academy Awards, dummy. They’re obliged to field at least one maddeningly mediocre or meritless title over and above quality competitors.

This particular project has form as well. Jonathan Safran Foer's poorly received sophomore novel was famously dismissed under the 2005 New York Pressheadline: "Extremely Cloying & Incredibly False: Why the author of Everything Is Illuminated is a fraud and a hack".

Time has not been kind. The Asperger stylings of Oskar Schell, the novel’s nine-year-old protagonist, were never wholly convincing. But now that similar stencilisations punctuate every other hipster novel and mumblecore movie they’re clichéd to boot.

To be fair, Junior Jeopardywinner-turned-thesp Thomas Horn shines as Oskar, a kid on a mission to uncover the purpose of a key left behind by the father (Tom Hanks) he lost in the September 11th attacks. There are some lovely moments between the juvenile lead and Max von Sydow's selective mute. There are powerful scenes of post-traumatic familial distress (take a bow, Sandra Bullock).

The effect is teary while making you think of a lolcat snuff video. The story pivots on tragic moments without, one feels, having earned them in the first place. Away from the candy catharsis, the film is all over the place.

There are simply too many inconsistencies and discrepancies in Oskar's story and character for Extremely Loud and Incredibly Closeto hang together. The denouement is damp. The chronological shifts don't quite come off. The continuity is haywire. The screen adaptation is comprised mostly from unwieldy blocks of text-to-voiceover and, in common with director Stephen Daldry's last outing, The Reader,looks far too much like posh telly, not cinema.

Pull that camera way, way back and keep walking.