Paul Constant reports, underwhelmed:
The Lovely Bones is a collection of scenes that are not connected by tone, or narrative propulsion, or really anything but proximity. A good portion of the running time is taken up with montages—a glamorous fashion parade here, a half-dozen abandoned corpses of underage girls there, a wacky sequence featuring Susan Sarandon’s pill-popping grandmother failing at simple domestic tasks (she sweeps dust under a carpet!) over there—and none of them feel like they’re in the right film.
Read the whole thing HERE.
