Son of Rambow – A Review

Movies romanticise everything, but nothing more than childhood. Setting aside the heavily dimpled phenomenon of children in most Hollywood movies, even movies about child-murderers (I’m thinking Lynne Ramsay’s Ratcatcher) make childhood out to be ecstatic. Something about that goldfish-brained tribe of ankle-biters seems to entrance film-makers. Perhaps because kids, like directors, think the world revolves around them. Perhaps because kids, like movie heroes, define themselves by action. Whatever the case, Son of Rambow (the latest movie to equate childhood with bliss), is an unabashed love letter to the tender age where imagination rules.