Millions

I watched Millions last night. Sweet and touching, whimsical and bright-spirited, it's the story of two English brothers who encounter a huge bag full of money, £265,000 in all.

Each has a different idea about how to spend it. Damian, the younger, just wants to do good, such as treating a crowd of homeless to lunch at Pizza Hut and stuffing wads through the front mail slot of a house of Mormon missionaries. (What they do with the money is hilarious). Anthony, the elder, sees the money as salve for hurts received in a tempestuous new environment using it to buy friends and merchandise. They try to spend as much of it as they can before England switches to the Euro and their bag becomes filled with just so much worthless paper. Together they discover just how hard this can be for two small children in an adult world where money is all-important.

Damian, at 7, knows his saints the way other boys know Manchester United. In fact, he's fortunate enough to have his own personal visions. (“Clare of Assisi, 1194 until 1253!") The saints come to him wearing halos ("The Ugandan Martyrs of 1881!") as he seeks his most important saint of all. “Do you ever come across a St. Maureen?" he asks Clare. "She hasn’t been there long." Anthony, being the realist, thinks his brother slightly loony. But he seeks St. Maureen too, without completely realizing it. Don't worry about the saints. They have their place and don't detract from the movie's sophistication. That's one of the things I liked about it. This was one of the best movies I've seen in a while.

And the ending? Well, we can talk about that later.

But I think it ended the only way it could.
K-

PS. For me, the actors' Liverpudlian accents tested my listening ability to the limit. I ended up turning the subtitles on.