Starring: Hugh Grant (I), Martine McCutcheon, Liam Neeson, Laura Linney

7 out of 10 stars

Sometimes, truth in advertising is really refreshing.

Writer/director/producer Richard Curtis's latest movie is called Love Actually, and what's it about? Yup, you guessed it, love. And, as the poster suggests, the film's various stories really do resemble Christmas presents. Some are small and flashy, a few are funny and naughty, others end up heartfelt and sentimental, but all are prettily wrapped, given with the best intentions, and provide the hoped-for warm fuzzies -- albeit with varying degrees of satisfaction and staying power.

The basic premise, as helpfully outlined in Hugh Grant's brief voiceover which opens the film, is that love really is all around, and that anyone can find it with a little effort. From Grant's turn as the newly-elected Prime Minister, who falls in love with a young staffer (Martine McCutcheon), to a widower (Liam Neeson), struggling to communicate with his stepson (the impish Thomas Sangster), to the long-married husband (Alan Rickman) and wife (Emma Thompson), whose relationship falters when a wily secretary interferes, we are presented with short glimpses of different types of love, and how those loves ebb and flow almost unnoticed except by those directly involved. Not only do these interludes give a nicely varied approach to defining love's chameleon-like nature, but they are also a marketer's dream, reaching out to nearly every audience demographic an advertiser can imagine. (Save some light swearing and a sweetly-funny, but rather graphic storyline involving two adult movie stand-ins, the film could have easily received a PG rating--but more on that later.)

Like past hits Four Weddings and a Funeral and Notting Hill, the success or failure of this film largely depends on casting choices, and Curtis and company certainly follow their usual Working Title formula here, stacking the deck almost to the point of overkill. In addition to Neeson, Thompson, Rickman, and Curtis regular Grant, Laura Linney and Colin Firth are on hand to handle the heavy lifting of the major plots, while lending star power and box-office pull. Notable actors Bill Nighy, Kris Marshall, and Gregor Fisher provide the quirkily original characterizations that complement the main stories. Sprinkle in some fresh, new faces (Keira Knightley, Rodrigo Santoro, Martine McCutcheon) and a generous handful of cameo appearances (Rowan Atkinson is the only one we'll tell you about), and you've got just the right mixture of gravitas, goofiness, and glamour needed to thoroughly woo and entertain the general moviegoing populace.

The use of such a large and recognizable cast can often be a warning sign of a lifeless script, but thankfully, that's not entirely the case here. Granted, the plot is divided amongst several different stories, diluting the potency and resonance of a few of them (it would have been fantastic to see more of Neeson's or Linney's storylines, for example), but each story has its own genuinely amusing or touching moments, helping the film escape the stunt-casting label.

Nighy presents a fabulous cartoon as Billy Mack, an aging British rocker. Mack transcends our expectations by being painfully honest about himself and the music industry during every public appearance, seemingly to the detriment of his briefly-reignited career. Similarly, in her performance as a middle-aged wife and mother, Thompson lends her character a very tangible sense of fresh pain, just barely masked by classic British reserve, as she prepares her children for a Christmas pageant. In the hands of lesser actors (and lesser writers, for that matter), these characters would come off as flat, popsicle stick clichés. Here, they earn our laughter, and at times our respect, because we can recognize and identify with their flaws.

This is a light, mostly heartwarming piece of filmmaking, but there are a few issues that will likely serve as roadblocks on the road to complete box-office domination. It has moments of melancholy--moments which, while keeping the film from turning into complete meringue, also tinge some of the stories with a vaguely unsatisfying, unfinished flavor. It is as if Curtis has mastered the art of cute, happy endings, but needs a bit more practice at fitting the not-so-happy ones into the flow of a film. In the same vein, Curtis presents Actually as a romantic comedy entirely about love, (which is generally an all-ages, or at least PG-13, emotion) yet insists on including an adult movie stand-ins storyline just graphic enough to earn the film an R rating, preventing a large portion of the potential audience from actually seeing the film. There is a distinct whiff of civilized protest against Hollywood's domination of film and the shortcomings of the MPAA rating system in this decision, which combined with a scene like the Prime Minister's speech rejecting the pressure tactics of the visiting American president, takes on a feeling of a political statement. While Curtis and all have every right and reason to make statements on these issues, doing so in this frothy setting is awkward at best, rather like dropping an anvil into the punch bowl of eggnog at a Christmas party and thinking that none of the other guests will really notice or mind.

In the end, this film about love wouldn't necessarily even need to take place at Christmas, but given that the time is generally known as the season of love and giving, it turns out to be a fitting and somewhat inspired choice. It is surprisingly enjoyable to see an almost-retro Christmas movie, which revolves entirely around the feelings that are supposed to be central to the season, as opposed to yet another flick about the hunt for a trendy toy or a wacky family's hijinks. During the holidays, people seem a little more willing to peer out from behind their cynicism and inch a bit closer to the notion of love, trying to accept others just as they are. With a little luck, audiences will do the same here, and accept Curtis' seasonal offering at face value and with good cheer, appreciating the lovely wrapping paper and remembering that with a gift, it's the thought behind it, not the lasting usefulness or cleverness, that truly counts.