Penguin Bloom

Watts is such a chameleon of an actress, such a pro at slipping into a vast array of roles without drawing attention to the mechanics of her work, that we almost take for granted how damn good she is — and she delivers beautiful and resonant work as Sam.

Dramas pile up, some obvious, some not, and Penguin Bloom meanders a bit before coming in to land. The path there might be predictable, but there is still something beautiful when it really takes flight.

This is a warm-hearted account of an adult’s painful journey, aided by a chirping counterpart.

Subtlety is kicked to the curb in favor of volcanic drama, and nary a moment goes by without some screaming or an inspiring message.

Gamely navigating a script that ushers her from seaside despair to hilltop elation, Watts gives a touching and blessedly understated performance, assisted by Sam Chiplin’s warmly expansive cinematography. As for the bundle of scene-stealing magpies (patiently trained by Paul Mander) who collectively bring Penguin to life, they’re a delight.

Once that narrative path becomes clear, Penguin Bloom never really surprises, delivering a series of heartfelt but predictable story beats.

Shrewdly, Watts goes for something subtle and soft here — instead of clichéd garishness, her performance hinges on her doleful gaze and melancholic tinge, ultimately helping Penguin Bloom honor its real-life character’s journey with some respect.

(Mauro Lanari) Difficult to grasp the differences with "Soul Surfer" (McNamara 2011) and with the reception received by moviegoes and critics. An inspirational true drama, however formulaic and sweetened since it is aimed at those who have experienced similar traumas managing to overcome them, so I'd not recommend it to the Schumacher family, to the Zanardi, to Márquez or, outside the sporting sphere, to Sposini, Nuti and so on.

Naomi Watts was the only one who put more than average effort in this dull film.