I shouldn't like Richard Curtis' About Time as much as I do. Its rules regarding time travel make no damn sense, particularly the BS rule about how you can't change anything before a child is born because they suddenly won't exist. It all smacks of arbitrariness. But I still loved About Time because it's too smart, too original to dislike for those inconsistencies. It said some of the most poignant things about aging, life, death, and loss that I've seen in a movie recently. This is the kind of film whose emotions come about maybe once in a writer's life. Though the scene with the father and son at the beach makes no sense considering the "rules," it made me tear up. If I ever watch the film again, I'll probably react the same way to it.
8/10
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