A Movie Called A Man Called Otto

I, like many others, firmly believe that books don’t translate well to movies. Take how a masterfully prepared ramen doesn’t translate well to instant noodles. Sure, it fills your stomach but the many nuances are simply lost. It is easy to produce and easier to consume on the other hand, requiring far less effort by both the maker and the consumer to enjoy the half assed effort that the dish is.

Art demands attention, time and most importantly respect to fully appreciate and realise the depths of it. But who’s got any of those to hand out so freely? If I get to enjoy something that might be 50% less fun than the original but also requires 90% less effort and time, the sacrifice is worth the yield.

Now it might seem like I’m being too harsh on the movie. And I am. The movie in its own regards holds up well, it’s the damn masterpiece of a book that the movie’s based on which is causing all this trouble.

Tom Hanks does a fantastic job playing Otto (Ove), capturing the character’s spirit well. And given the runtime, the movie holds true to most of the vital scenes. Sure they might have cut out most of the backstory and many smaller scenes that greatly added to the context surrounding grumpy ol’ Ove (Otto) but at the end of the day, it’s still a movie with a limited runtime, and you’ll enjoy it going in blind.

I do recommend you make the same mistake I did, that is, reading the book and bawling your eyes out once towards the end of the book and once again towards the end of the movie.

To Otto (Ove), and sweet sweet Marisol (Parvaneh) who taught me the cutest ways of pronouncing Otto.

Cheers.