Atonement reminds me of that masterpiece of a movie called Blow Up, directed by Michelangelo Antonioni. As in Blow Up, in Atonement we have this dynamic between reality and fiction, which is the most haunting thing about them. In Blow Up (based on one of the best short stories you would read, Julio Cortazar's "Las babas del Diablo"), a fashion photographer happens to discover a crime while taking pictures in a park --or that's what he thinks up until the amazingly ironic, metafiction-related end.
Fiction exists to complete reality, to make justice and give us --the readers, the viewers-- freedom (and not only for the duration of the movie). Appearances have a reality of their own whenever you think of how different they can get from every different person that approaches the same object/subject. It's like all those female teens who read Twilight, and then, out of the many smart ones who didn't dig the screen adaptation at all, they are still so different from each other because at the end it's not about the outside reality --not even of a novel or a flick--, but about who they are as individuals. And that affects everything we touch with our minds. The subjectivity in regards to fiction and the "real" world is the central theme to Atonement, and it is just fascinating to reckon.
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