







Weird one to admit: I'd forgotten I'd seen this until I hit play, and that's not exactly a glowing endorsement.
Spencer Tracy plays the old fisherman, and at 58 he's supposed to look worn down by decades battling the sea. He doesn't, not really — he's weathered, but the exhaustion never quite settles in, and the film needed that ache to pull me in. The central fight — man, marlin, and the vast, indifferent sea — barely gets going before the film reels it back in and tidies it away.
It's handsomely shot, and there's an old-fashioned charm to watching someone talk to a fish for ninety minutes, but I never felt the line pull taut. To be fair, I read the book first, so maybe I walked in with the wrong bait.
Solid effort, forgettable result — which might be the most damning thing I can say about a story built around endurance.