#9 of 20 films at TIFF. 

I had previously read the novel of The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. It was hard to get through but I persevered to see if there was a pay off for staying the distance. There wasn’t. 

I was curious to see if John Crowley could make a better fist of it. Nope. This is just as turgid and pretentious. 

No performance redeemed any element of this, and I still dislike Ansel Elgort as a performer. Actually Oakes Fegley gave the better performance of the lead character, as the younger Theo. 

My two and a half stars are all for Roger Deakins’s cinematography, but even he cannot polish this turd.