Nooblethenood I'm not going to completely slate this film. It had some convincing elements, and began to get a sense of drama after a while.However, that's pretty much all I can say that's positive about it. It's extraordinary to think about the films that Nicolas Roeg has had a hand in, and then to see the genuinely shoddy camera, editing and soundtrack work in this. From a production point of view, it's well short of what it should be. Shots are wobbly where they really aren't supposed to be, the camera operator seems to be initially obsessed with unnecessary slow zoom shots when setting the scene early on. And it does that atrocious thing of the camera positively taking you by the hand, pointing at the thing that's supposed to be relevant, and shouting 'Look! Look at this! Look! It's really important and relevant to something that's going to happen in the plot!' Appalling! There is literally no visual, and indeed editorial, subtlety to this at all.Of course, the camera spends plenty of time picking out things to look at that are apparently relevant to the plot (such as the titular puffball mushroom), but the relevance of which is anybody's guess, and is never elucidated on throughout the film. It is a story evidently revolving around a mish-mashed kind of magical mysticism, and yet the mechanics of this are never explained. A family consisting of the mad old witch (literally) grandma and her two harridan daughters are, apparently, desperate to produce a male child. Apart from the suggestion that this comes down to the grandma's loss of her son, there is again no explanation of what exactly this will achieve, beyond them having a boy in the family. Why is it so important? Why does this require magical, potion swilling machinations and almost homicidal hatred towards the perfectly nice, pleasant new couple in the old cottage down the road? We have no idea, and nothing in the hackneyed performances of pretty much everyone involved provides any enlightenment.As the heroine of the story, Kelly Reilly manages to squeeze out (pardon the pun) one or two moments of dramatic complexity, but little more. The other female roles are variously overplayed or underscripted, and none are believable. As for the incidental male roles (more on that shortly), there's no-one who stands out... EXCEPT for Donald Sutherland.Now just check that for a moment. Donald Sutherland, someone who, in his time, has offered some of the really memorable, if ever somewhat eccentric, roles in film. In Puffball, however, he appears, as though out of nowhere, with no introduction or explanation, then wanders about in woodland pretty much dancing gaily around magical stones and fairy rings, grinning all the time like a Cheshire... well, idiot. Then, when he does speak he's barely audible, delivering every line in a low, drunken murmur, and when he is audible, the pseudo-philosophical claptrap he issues forth makes about as much sense as a ham bicycle. I have precisely no idea why he was even there, and what his character was supposed to achieve for the film.But, finally, the issue with the men. Fay Weldon is a writer with a certain feminist character, and certainly her novels are not without their confusing, or at least complex gender issues. However, I have no idea who, or what in human psychology, this story is supposed to represent or serve. The men are, essentially, incidental tools either to be used by the women in the story, or to provide the most vapid, inconsequential 'guidance', that couldn't guide a train along a straight track. They are cyphers, nothing more, used by the women in the story primarily for sex and impregnation, and they are apparently useless to offer any resistance to this role. The women, on the other hand, are either manipulative and utterly bewilderingly obsessed morons, or in the case of Liffey, a shallow, daft victim, who only makes it through the whole business by barely relevant or believable luck. There is no actual arc or development to her awareness of the world at all. Stuff just happens. It seems to me that this story has nothing to say about gender roles or relations at all, as its representations of both men and women have no bearing on reality whatsoever. Nor does it provide dialogue interesting enough to pardon this.For a moment, somewhere, in the latter half of the film, there was almost a dramatic rhythm and character appearing in Puffball, but it didn't last very long. The timing is well off: it's over-long and narratively awkward. None of the story really makes sense, and one feels that there was an intentional decision not to explain what is happening. However, this went to the extent of not explaining it AT ALL, leaving the viewer with no engagement in the story, no understanding of what was supposed to be happening and why, and absolutely no idea why it was supposed to be worth the bother.So, all in all, really not worth making the effort to see.Oh, and some really pointless and off-putting 'internal' graphic sex/genitalia shots, using what I can only presume were latex creations from the xxx-online boutique's Pervy Plastic range. I mean, loads of them. Let's just say, I reckon there's a reason why not many filmmakers have felt the need to shoot sex from the inside. It's not pretty, and it's not clever.

fedor8 "Puffball" offers many shocking moments, such as the realization that Rita Tushingham hadn't changed at all in over 40 years. (A real witch, perhaps?) She was hideous then, and she's hideous now. What remarkable physical consistency. When you have nothing to lose, you age so much better - or not at all.I thought this kind of voodoo nonsense had been dumped into the movie bin by filmmakers in the 60s. Well, not quite. Certain Roegs and Faye Weldons consider that kind of crap to make for potent fantasy dramas about Irish people shagging each other in the bleak Northern countryside.Half-way through this tiresome drivel, Donald Sutherland shows up, grinning like an ape. Speaking of semen and sperm-donors, why was he ever even allowed to make Kiefer? Sutherland appears as a "wise old man" (dressed as a yuppie: go figure) but he comes off as a confused Methuselah, saying at one point this movie's puffyballian immortal words: "The hardest thing to keep separate is what we do and what we want to be." Now, while this kind of cheap deepakchoprian fortune-cookie utterance may sound true at first glance, think again... Isn't the opposite the case? Isn't it hard to unite what we do and what we want to be? I guess you need to be Roegian to appreciate the "intellectual qualities" of such a movie.But Sutherland doesn't stop there. True to the moronic New Age we live in, Sutherland utters the perennial esoteric favourite of every recent "spiritual" movie: "We know nothing." That's right, Donald, scientists have been wasting millions of their hours, spent futile centuries of hard work sweating over formulas, experiments and theories, and reaching conclusions that mean nothing, spreading lies and falsehoods. To get to the REAL crux of the Secrets of the Universe, it's best to talk to various Roegs and Feldons about it. Shagging in the Irish countryside holds more wisdom than 3000 Newtons and Einsteins combined.The sex is practiced on magical stones, in pig-sties, in bedrooms even (gasp!), just about any time and any place. Just to make sure that we know that it's the sperm that is the star of the show, Roeg shows us some dubious interior shots of Irish intercourse, footage as if kidnapped straight from the National Geographic Channel. What the hell, I thought, they might as well all get pregnant - as long as it isn't Donald Sutherland's seed they're carrying. One Kiefer is quite enough, thank you...Some people wrote about how intelligent and complex Feldon presents women. This couldn't be further from the truth: the women in this movie are portrayed as superstitious, hysterical, unbalanced halfwits who spend their entire lives poking their noses into their neighbours' affairs. If mental imbalance constitutes complexity then I stand corrected.Miranda Richardson has never looked bigger. Whatever happened to her small complexion? She looks like a Desert Storm tank. Whatever happened to her role-picking? She's made some turkeys before, but what kind of lies and exaggerations and charlatanic baloney did Roeg whisper into her gullible, impressionable thespian ears for her to agree to appear in this overlong, silly drama? Reilly, the central character, is totally uninteresting.

avalon_2468 I've just had to sit through Puffball at the Exeter Phoenix screening –where Mr. Roeg graced us with his presence for a listed Q& A session pre the movie viewing…and thank god for 'his' own sake he did. I thought Basic Instinct II was a turkey… but this movie takes bird basting to a whole new level… There's no doubting Nic's past pedigree (40 years ago) with über works such as Walkabout, Don't Look Now and that allegory of our current times The Man Who Fell to Earth… but in his current contemporary offering the only truly menacing character in this supernatural themed movie is Molly's (Rita Tushingham's) Dog… It does the menacing stare very well… though as I know not of the book (original material)…I cannot judge what Fay Weldon's original story had in mind? And interestingly, Mr. Roeg stated pre viewing…that this is a woman's film… which as I saw the movie with three women… all four of us didn't seem to share this heterogamy vision… Major problems with the film are it's done on a shoe string budget… and the characters particularly Liffey lack real depth and any sense of believable credibility… And the monotonous steady delivery of the plot with no twists or unexpected turns also means that you just wish the whole experience would come to a more dramatic, less over acted, swifter end… I kept expecting to have Father Dougal McGuire appear, with Mrs. Doyle in tow… in which case some real farcical humour could have ensued…so at least the 'naff' typical Irish stereotypes could be further exploited… for better comic affect.I imagine as a favour to his buddy from the 1970's - Donald Sutherland's cameo appearances were there to add an A list weight -.playing the mad senior 'deity' partner from Liffey's city slicker, architectural practice past. Poor old Donald wanders around grinning maniacally like a Cheshire cat mumbling words of architectural design guru wisdom, ruefully confessing to having always wanted to see an ancient fertility stone….The continual references to Odin throughout the movie (Norse paganism) for me seemed at odds with the setting of in-depth Celt southern Ireland… but lets not be a stickler for accuracy here… perhaps it should have been shot in Stavanger? The heavy handed use of somewhat unsubtle sound xfx and inappropriate Irish music doesn't help either… and I do suspect greatly with this work that younger members of the team have been overawed by the combined presence of Weldon (by proxy through her son, 2nd unit Director, and screenplay writer Dan) and Roeg into creating a low budget, 2 year film school result, instead of following their own more polished and well-honed intuitions. Miranda Richardson… should really have known better… And as a woman we do 'get' how babies are made on a biological level… seeing frequent cutaways to spermatozoa and uterine membrane walls if over done leaves you feeling somewhat violated… To sum up, I'd recommend seeing this movie for one reason only… it's a testament to triumph of ego over more humble led creative sanity… and you need a film like this every-now-and-then to appreciate what's really good…I saw 2 Days in Paris by the wonderful Julie Delpy last week… this is definitely a 'womans' movie also made on a low budget… and is a remarkable result because of it… And I whole heartedly recommend you all go see that!

AJMcKenna Loath it or love it, once you've seen Nicolas Roeg's latest offering - Puffball - you'll probably never be able to forget it. Roeg has delved into the psyche of the male animal and returned with disturbing images of life, death, religion and sex. Puffball is as haunting and memorable as the best he has done before.Kelly Reilly plays an architect who is refurbishing a derelict house in the wilds. When she arrives with her lover she is watched by an old woman who is possibly a witch and means the visitors no good. This almost familiar opening does not lead down a predictable path – Puffball takes myriad twists and turns and surprises and manages to remain original and engrossing. Supported by stunning and atmospheric photography in rural Ireland the plot twists and meanders to an exciting and satisfying conclusions. It is how Roeg waves his spell that is so fascinating and unforgettable. There is little erotic content – sex is brutal and cruel and ultimately a woman's body is the receptacle for hopes and ambitions that surpass the male lust for immediate satisfaction.The cast is excellent. Miranda Richardson is convincing as the woman who aches to give birth, Rita Tushingham is compelling as the sinister old lady who weaves her spells and incantations and the always excellent Donald Sutherland makes a brief but significant appearance.Not a film for screen slouchers, Puffball demands attention and rewards with a haunting tale of rebirth and redemption. The Screenplay is by Dan Weldon adapted from Fay Weldon's novel. Puffball is disturbing but rewarding. Nic Roeg has given us another great film and for that we should be thankful.