My Sister’s Keeper…

is a mega tearjerker.

Sharp intakes of breath, occasional sobs and the sound of tissue paper packages being torn apart were audible, like, 15 minutes into the film, and persisted throughout the two hours.

I teared too, and by the scene in which the protagonist was flipping through her scrapbook of memories, tears were gushing out.

My Sister’s Keeper is adapted from Jodi Picoult’s book of the same title, and fans of Picoult (which thankfully I am not cos’ it is way, way too depressing) will know how good she is at making people cry. The premise has all the ingredients of a huge sob fest. Leukemia-stricken 14-year-old girl, her doomed relationship with a fellow patient, a little girl’s struggles for “medical emancipation” – she was born with the sole purpose of donating organs to her sick sister and she now wants out of it, a dyslexic boy neglected in the grand scheme of things, a husband-wife relationship strained under the wife’s maniacal campaign to keep her daughter alive, even the lawyer in the film suffers from fits.

Watching the film, besides the obvious effect of saddening me, made me feel blessed and scared at the same time. Blessed, in that the loved ones around me are healthy, scared because the thought of losing them is just, I don’t want to think about it

The cast is excellent- everyone, and by that I mean every single person, Cameron Diaz and child actors included – did an awesome job.  That alone was the only factor which allowed My Sister’s Keeper to rise beyond any other maudlin melodrama. And that’s a real pity because tear-inducing tactics aside, the film actually presents very interesting medical dilemmas- the issues that could have made this film a real winner, but which were unfortunately not explored at all.


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