"A woman needs to be held, even, and science has shown this, if its by someone she doesn't care about. Protective hormones are released, and the amount of hormones released depends on the degree to which she is held. The best is the complete surround; he wraps her in both arms, whispers how beautiful she is. When this happens, she feel completely, wonderfully like a woman." - Radio ("Shopgirl")
Fans of "Vertigo" and Todd Haynes' "Far From Heaven" should enjoy "Shopgirl", directed by an otherwise undistinguished Anand Tucker. With its retro clothing, careful location work, designer visuals, tapestry of voluptuous music and big, melodramatic brush-strokes, the film plays like a poor-man's Hitchcock, but such an aesthetic is rare in cinema, so we savour it here.
The plot? Claire Danes plays the miserable Mirabelle, a young woman from Vermont who works behind a Neiman Marcus glove counter in Beverly Hills. The film is based on a novella by actor/comedian Steve Martin. Both watch as Mirabelle struggles with loneliness in a sprawling, inhospitable LA, a city which seems to chew up and spit out fragile souls. Rescuing her from asphyxiation are two men, one a wealthy character played by Martin himself, another a young guy played by Jason Schwartzman. Both seem to love Mirabelle. The film traces Mirabelle's infatuation with the wealthy Martin, a man who treats her like a princess, and disgust with Jason, who treats her as a sex object. By the film's end, these relationships are somewhat reversed. Mirabelle learns that Martin isn't interested in a real relationship with her, is using her, and Jason learns to stop being a bum and treat people with respect.
The film's tale is old-news, some of its "quirky moments" grate and several of its subplots don't work at all. Where it does succeed is in its mood and style. Mirabelle's life is given a noirish, almost existential quality, like a sex drenched Hopper or Vetrianno painting, her tiny life constantly juxtaposed to distant shots of vast cities, highways and zillions of little granular people. Martin rescues her from this anonymity, these feelings of low self-worth, and is actually, unconventionally for such films, not portrayed as a bad guy. Selfish yes, but he gets her out of a rut and seems to genuinely care for her. Before it falls apart, we're also treated to a lovely colour palette – lots of blacks and greens, epitomising Mirabelle's noxious, toxic mind space – some interesting architecture (inhospitable urban LA, Duilio Damilano modernism, high street glitz/royalty, middle-class, Tuscan-style/Art-Deco apartment blocks) and shots which fawn over Danes' luscious womanness, watching as she shaves her legs, brushes her hair, fixes her clothes etc. The film tries to capture an old-school type of femininity; lots of curves, retro clothes and mannered poses.
"Shopgirl" was released one year after Sophia Coppola's "Lost in Translation". Both films cover similar ground, but with interesting differences. Coppola's film was written and directed by a young woman, "Shopgirl" by two elderly men. Coppola's was about a lonely young woman in an alienating city who falls in love with an old man, played by a comedian, "Shopgirl" does the same. Interestingly, the couple have sex in "Shopgirl", get close and break up, whilst never go this far in Coppola's film. Both tap into sleazy daddy-complexes, Coppola longing for older, protective guys, Martin drooling over young ladies but mature enough to recognise the seedier side of his tale. You might say "Shopgirl" is explicitly - even though it ultimately pardons its two men - about why the relationship in "Translation" seems attractive, but may be dangerous. And what's the Schwartzman character here, but the absent-minded boyfriend of the heroine in Coppola's film.
8/10 - Stylish, moody tale, eventually falls apart due to unnecessary quirkiness. Worth one viewing. See Todd Haynes' "Safe".
Fans of "Vertigo" and Todd Haynes' "Far From Heaven" should enjoy "Shopgirl", directed by an otherwise undistinguished Anand Tucker. With its retro clothing, careful location work, designer visuals, tapestry of voluptuous music and big, melodramatic brush-strokes, the film plays like a poor-man's Hitchcock, but such an aesthetic is rare in cinema, so we savour it here.
The plot? Claire Danes plays the miserable Mirabelle, a young woman from Vermont who works behind a Neiman Marcus glove counter in Beverly Hills. The film is based on a novella by actor/comedian Steve Martin. Both watch as Mirabelle struggles with loneliness in a sprawling, inhospitable LA, a city which seems to chew up and spit out fragile souls. Rescuing her from asphyxiation are two men, one a wealthy character played by Martin himself, another a young guy played by Jason Schwartzman. Both seem to love Mirabelle. The film traces Mirabelle's infatuation with the wealthy Martin, a man who treats her like a princess, and disgust with Jason, who treats her as a sex object. By the film's end, these relationships are somewhat reversed. Mirabelle learns that Martin isn't interested in a real relationship with her, is using her, and Jason learns to stop being a bum and treat people with respect.
The film's tale is old-news, some of its "quirky moments" grate and several of its subplots don't work at all. Where it does succeed is in its mood and style. Mirabelle's life is given a noirish, almost existential quality, like a sex drenched Hopper or Vetrianno painting, her tiny life constantly juxtaposed to distant shots of vast cities, highways and zillions of little granular people. Martin rescues her from this anonymity, these feelings of low self-worth, and is actually, unconventionally for such films, not portrayed as a bad guy. Selfish yes, but he gets her out of a rut and seems to genuinely care for her. Before it falls apart, we're also treated to a lovely colour palette – lots of blacks and greens, epitomising Mirabelle's noxious, toxic mind space – some interesting architecture (inhospitable urban LA, Duilio Damilano modernism, high street glitz/royalty, middle-class, Tuscan-style/Art-Deco apartment blocks) and shots which fawn over Danes' luscious womanness, watching as she shaves her legs, brushes her hair, fixes her clothes etc. The film tries to capture an old-school type of femininity; lots of curves, retro clothes and mannered poses.
"Shopgirl" was released one year after Sophia Coppola's "Lost in Translation". Both films cover similar ground, but with interesting differences. Coppola's film was written and directed by a young woman, "Shopgirl" by two elderly men. Coppola's was about a lonely young woman in an alienating city who falls in love with an old man, played by a comedian, "Shopgirl" does the same. Interestingly, the couple have sex in "Shopgirl", get close and break up, whilst never go this far in Coppola's film. Both tap into sleazy daddy-complexes, Coppola longing for older, protective guys, Martin drooling over young ladies but mature enough to recognise the seedier side of his tale. You might say "Shopgirl" is explicitly - even though it ultimately pardons its two men - about why the relationship in "Translation" seems attractive, but may be dangerous. And what's the Schwartzman character here, but the absent-minded boyfriend of the heroine in Coppola's film.
8/10 - Stylish, moody tale, eventually falls apart due to unnecessary quirkiness. Worth one viewing. See Todd Haynes' "Safe".