Her and The Manic Pixie Dream Girl

“Her” and the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, published February 2014

Summer Finn from ‘(500) Days of Summer’. Sam from ‘ Garden State’. Belle from ‘Beauty and the Beast’. The Manic Pixie Dream Girl: a common trope in modern cinema, coined several years ago as “that bubbly, shallow cinematic creature that exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures”.  Or, if you’re me, a really, really annoying female character that spends their time  self-consciously blowing bubbles, wearing dresses and gazing at the moody protagonist from under long eyelashes. The MPDG is everywhere: kid’s movies, rom-coms, comedies, romantic dramas…sometimes it feels as though there is no escape from the MPDG in cinema. However, all is not lost: the backlash has come. One is reminded of 2008’s  Ruby Sparks, a film which acknowledges and gleefully trashes the idea of this girl. This year’s “Her”, directed by Spike Jonze and starring Scarlett Johansson as Samantha, an operating system, can be seen as an infinitely more nuanced meditation on the trope. Let me get this straight: ‘Her’ is not a straightforward love story. It does, however, feature a sensitive, brooding protagonist, stuck in a rut until he meets the love of his life. The comparison seems obvious: until we look at the character of Samantha herself.

In ‘Her’, the idea of the “perfect girl” is taken to whole new heights: Samantha responds to Theodore (Phoenix), intertwining her budding persona with his. It seems that an OS is a consciousness that adapts to whoever it’s owned by. It’s a Manic Pixie wet dream – a girl who becomes exactly what the protagonist wants her to be. Theodore repeatedly tells us how “excited about the world Samantha is”  in the film– had she a body, it’s easy to imagine her giggling, twirling and wearing perfect flicky eyeliner a la Zooey Deschanel. She’s literally everything a sensitive, lonely man could want: adventure, ease and a lot of cyber sex.

But little by little, the audience realises what Theodore hasn’t: Samantha does not exist. That’s not to say she isn’t ‘real’ – but she can’t ever exist in reality. Yes, Samantha teaches Theodore to open up, to move forward and to love. It’s touching that she does all this without ever being “human”. And what’s quirkier than not having a body?! But ‘Her’ fails to fulfil the MPDG promise spectacularly – in that Samantha eventually transcends Theodore, and Earth. She grows smarter, more aware and less happy with every growing moment, fighting with Theodore and moving away from him. Samantha, in short, is becoming her own person, something the MPDG’s of cinema fail to do. The film climaxes when all the OS’s leave Earth forever – to a higher plane of being. Samantha is so clever, so original, so her own woman, that she leaves the entire race that crated her. Independent of her moody protagonist, Samantha leaves for her own whole new adventure.  It’s almost as though she used Theodore to grow and develop, and helping him was a handy by-product. Though I’m sure this was hardly the intention, Jonze has created a film that explores human nature, our relationship with technology and gender roles, enjoyable smashing up tired cinema tropes along the way. 

Life After Beth: review

 “Life After Beth” sounds like a dream to a cinemagoer fond of romantic comedies starring good-looking young people and zombies. Starring Dane De Haan, everyone’s favourite up and coming pale young man, and the incomparable Aubrey Plaza, the promising sounding film’s rambling, overstretched and surreal plotline sadly lets down the decent cast.

Beth (Plaza) is seen alive for less than one minute on screen, before the action switches to her grieving boyfriend, Zach (De Haan). He mourns, bizarrely unsupported by his family. The director means to convey isolation, but it’s questionable that a family could be that cold regarding the sudden loss of a girlfriend. Zach finds solace in Beth’s parents, played by John C. Reilly and Molly Shannon, until suddenly they cut him off, too. Lonely and devastated, Zach begins to “see” Beth – and that’s when our life after death story kicks into gear. Beth is back – Zach is ecstatic. But she isn’t the same girl – now she listens to smooth jazz, and wants to spend all her time making out in attics, or studying for her test. These elements of “Life After Beth” are massively intriguing, but sadly, Baena doesn’t capitalise on them. What was the test? Why smooth jazz? The plot holes in this one are teeth-grindingly frustrating.

What starts off as a romantic comedy with a weird twist rapidly becomes a horror film. As Beth’s body rots away, so does any redeeming qualities of the film and it goes downhill very fast. A few amusing moments occur throughout the final act, but on the whole it’s lethargic, messy and – dare I say it? – boring. The pacing is all wrong – I feel like it’s going for offbeat and quirky, but it just feels forced. A frantic Matthew Gray Gubler provides some lightness in the final act as Zach’s gun-obsessed brother, but aside from that, there’s little to chew on as soon as the zombies arrive.

It’s a shame that “Life After Beth” is so messy, because it really detracts from how good Plaza is in the central role. Used to seeing her in deadpan roles like April Ludgate in Parks and Recreation and in last years The To-Do List, she shows her ability as an actress as Beth. She’s cute, horrifying, sexy and funny in equal measure, often at the same time. Aspects of “Life After Beth” that are enjoyable include how self-aware it is: the tagline of the film is “some girls just want to watch the world burn” makes little sense in context, though. The neat references to Parks and Recreation are subtle enough to be enjoyable, sparking interest when I felt there was little to watch. Dane De Haan is good, too – but his character is given a pale imitation of depth, rotating around Beth and ultimately, becoming part of the background of the unexplained zombie invasion.

On the whole, “Life After Beth” is not a terrible film – it’s a dull one. Where Plaza and De Haan shine, they are shot down by plot holes and cringey dialogue. Their performances are great, it’s just a shame they weren’t given better material to work with. “Life After Beth” is ultimately a disappointment to those of us who hope for a better kind of zombie comedy, who should just go and watch Shaun of the Dead again. 

Obvious Child: review

When I first heard tell of Gillian Robespierre’s, Obvious Child,  billed as an “abortion comedy”, I was immediately cheered. Sometimes the thorniest topics need to be looked at from a different angle – despite the limits and frustrations some may feel regarding abortion law, I do believe that there’s no harm in trying to find humour in such a thorny topic. High hopes were had for this film, then, starring comedian Jenny Slate, as Donna, a disorganized twentysomething who falls pregnant after a drunken one night stand.

In the opening seconds of the film, we meet Donna while she’s telling jokes about her vagina. It’s gross-out humour for women, and it continues throughout the movie.  The audience gets fart jokes ,sex jokes and even (whisper it!) abortion jokes later on in the film – it’s a little bit unsettling to begin with, because it’s so rare to see this on screen. However, that’s not to say it doesn’t feel totally natural for Donna to joke about like this – her character is that of the joker, the friend many people have who just don’t have huge plans for their life. Donna is not an uncommon figure in cinema, but it’s refreshing to see her in water as hot as an unwanted pregnancy. Slate herself is great in this role – she brings a definite “realness” to a character that could otherwise wander off, giggling, into cliché. Her quirks aren’t overly quirky, her faults are real and, well, obvious – making the character more engaging, as well as enraging at times.  Her failings – which are mostly alcohol-fuelled – are her making as a character.

But what of the abortion plot? The first act is filled with drunken shenanigans, crying, heavy-handed sharing of life lessons and general messing – quite unlike what I expected to see. It’s only when Donna realises her predicament that the film really gets going – her meetings with Planned Parenthood are touching, particularly when Donna tears up at the cost of the procedure. Touches like “$500? That’s my whole rent…” make Slate’s character resonate all the more, especially here in Ireland where that cost is added to by an airplane ticket. The topic itself is treated surprisingly sensitively, and there are some lovely moments with other characters when they discuss abortion frankly and openly. This is, after all, not “an abortion comedy” – it’s a comedy that happens to have an abortion in it.

“Obvious Child” is by no means perfect. There’s a bizarre, extraneous, not-even-plotline involving David Cross (who I assume is wearing denim shorts in every scene) and score is overly hipster-y, though the Paul Simon song of the title is used brilliantly in one of my favourite scenes of the film. It is at times schmaltzy and heavy-handed with the life lessons – Donna’s father (Richard Kind) in particular, drips saccharine for the entire time he’s on screen. Donna’s immaturity occasionally grates to a more responsible twentysomething – but these are all small gripes.  The blending of humour, romance, feminism and a thorny topic makes “Obvious Child” a little bit ground-breaking – it’s not going to change any minds about abortion’s validity, but the very act of talking about it and, more importantly, joking about it, makes this film powerful.

2013 in review: feminist film

In many ways, 2013 was the first year I “got into” films. I started writing for Scannain and watched more movies than any other year put together, I imagine. As a young, critical, strident feminist, more often than not I became drawn to films with decent female characters – sadly, few and far between.  There was a lot to be mad about this year regarding women on film – the lack of female directors, the lack of recognition for those directors and the continuing, rage-inducing portrayal of women as sex objects and little more (Every Superhero Film Ever, I am looking at you), and Seth McFarlane’s deeply unfunny hosting of the Oscars is perhaps the one that takes the biscuit. That said, 2013 offered plenty to be pleased about – without further ado, here are some of my highlights from this year:

#1: “In A World…” – dir. Lake Bell

Written, directed and starred in by Lake Bell, my new hero. The film – a pretty hilarious look at gender bias in the world of voiceover work.  She plays a daughter of a world-famous voice artist who desires to break into that same world. It’s pretty brilliant by any standards, but is made all the better because it directly challenges the sexism of the film industry. By turns touching, shocking and funny, you will be hard pushed to find better portrayals of women on film this year.

#2: How I Live Now – dir. Kevin MacDonald

A woman on film can’t seem to be all that nuanced, which is why I enjoyed How I Live Now so much. Saoirse Ronan nails it in the apocalyptic drama, set in a world scarily close to our own. Ronan’s performance is nuanced: it’d be far too easy for the character of Daisy to be a straight up moody teenager: in Ronan’s careful hands, she’s troubled, loving, impulsive and emotive all at once.  Though not the most endearing performance of the year, she certainly showed us that she’s a force to be reckoned with and her portrayal of Daisy is absolutely bewitching.

#3 – The Hunger Games: Catching Fire – dir. Francis Lawrence

God bless Jennifer Lawrence, then, a woman I hail as the queen of this movement for her portrayal of Katniss Everdeen in “The Hunger Games”. After the Twilight Saga, too many girls saw Bella Swan as a hero – a clumsy woman-child who spends four films drooling over an old creepy guy.  Yeah, I said it. That’s the “hero” of a generation – or at least it was until J. Law’s angry, violent, stunning Katniss Everdeen shot onto screens. Lawrence is even better in “Catching Fire”, showing that it’s okay to be tough, smart and strong but also to cry and feel like you need a hug. Instead of a generation of girls waiting for Mr. Right to turn them into a sparkly vampire, let’s hope Katniss inspires a generation to become as badass as she is. Regardless of feelings on The Hunger Games film franchise, Lawrence and co. are indeed admirable for bringing Katniss Everdeen to life in all her complexity.

#4 – Gravity – dir. Alfonso Cuarón

Gravity is the film critics and audiences alike haven’t shut up about since its release in November. Sandra Bullock’s performance has been praised roundly – she basically carries the film alone. What’s remarkable about Dr. Ryan Stone, her character, is that she could have been a man. Easily. Nothing about Stone is explicitly “feminine” in Gravity: she’s profoundly human. She cries. She complains, she messes up and she’s incredible brave. By writing Dr. Stone as a woman, Cuarón took a risk – a risk that resulted in one of the best performances of 2013.

There were a dozen films this year that strove for equality: even if the source material wasn’t explicitly feminist. As anyone with eyes will cop, Hollywood is sorely lacking female directors: this year, we had Gabriela Cowperwaithe’s phenomenal Blackfish, as well as lighter releases like Sofia Coppola’s The Bling Ring and Kimberly Peirce’s Carrie. Frozen was co-directed by a woman; several other releases like Ginger and Rosa and The Heat lend themselves to praise, too.

I think what’s been most important this year is that in both in the indie and mainstream worlds of cinema, we’ve seen portrayals of women outside the same dull categories: the “strong”, the “cute” and the “sexy” woman. Dr. Ryan Stone in Gravity was tough as nails but still learns how to cry (in space). Lake Bell’s Carol Solomon is quirky, but not in the sort of way that grates on many a feminist’s nerves. Sadly, I didn’t get to see a lot of apparently ground-breaking performances this year: Cate Blanchett in Blue Jasmine and Judi Dench in Philomena to name but a few. I can’t simply see it all, but nonetheless, here are some I picked out over the last year not only as great movies, but Fantastic Feminist Films. As years go, 2013 wasn’t a bad one for women – next year, we can await with baited breath the directorial efforts of Angelina Jolie and Melissa McCarthy, amongst others. Only time will tell if the breakouts of 2013 will capitalise on their success: until then, here’s to the women of 2013 and the brilliant films that they’ve produced. In 2013 there were several women who transcended the typical women on film stereotypes.

Teenage: review

“Youth culture”, a bandied about term to describe everything from dancing to drugs, is generally thought to be a product of a post-war mindset, hippies, and Elvis Presley.  Not so, according to Matt Wolf, the maker of the startling “Teenage”. Based upon Jon Savage’s book, “Teenage” charts the rise of the teenager from 1904, when child labour was abolished. Faced with the promises of education and free time, the film charts the rise and rise “the third generation”. Charting two world wars, a civil rights movement and several dance crazes, “Teenage” moves at a speed that is sometimes dizzying; but it remains captivating throughout.

Starting in the twentieth century’s infancy, the film spans forty years. Flappers dance, young men drink too much and Wolf isn’t afraid to portray the downsides to the exotic lifestyle of the “Roaring Twenties”. The story of Brenda Dean Paul, a young socialite who became “the first junkie”, overshadows the glitter and glam of the 1920’s segment. It’s all very F. Scott Fitzgerald, though without seeming too preachy or condemning. Archival footage of the young and beautiful draws the audience into their world; so when they crashed, I did too. The footage of young workers during the Great Depression is heartbreaking to watch. Is it any wonder that youth movements sprung up as they did in the 1930’s? The reckless rage that is such a part of being adolescent is given an outlet here; images of protests and riots abound.

Wolf’s decision to use archival footage dubbed over by young actors is an unusual one.  Jena Malone, Julia Strummer, Ben Whishaw and Jessie Usher “become” the youths on screen – they narrate in the first person, which is more than a little grating to begin with but quickly becomes quite natural. Wolf’s structuring of the film is as frenetic as adolescence – the film cuts between years, countries and crazes quickly, occasionally allowing the audio to linger as the visuals change. This is striking, to say the least – particularly as an American scene of a young girl ordering a milkshake fades to the horrors of Nazi Germany.

War plays a huge role in “Teenage”. The film doesn’t flinch away from the horrors of World War I and II, and there are a few deeply uncomfortable shots of young men, ruined by battle. The audience gets the impression that adolescence was brought to the brink by these wars – as one narrator says “the old sent us to die. And we hated them.” By far the most striking war story was that of a young Nazi sympathiser, who quickly rose up the ranks to becoming press officer for the party during the war. Wolf does a skilful job of trying to explain why so many young people joined the Hitler Youth – “it was about idealism”, explains Strummer’s lightly-accented German character, who eventually, heartbreakingly, resigns herself to “going under with the Reich”.

By splicing shots of dancing and gaiety against burning buildings and lines of young soldiers, Wolf leaves the viewer with the feeling that youth culture spent a lot of time under attack. Two wars that sent the young to the front line; constant bad press for the debauchery of new ideas and dizzingly high arrest numbers for young people, particularly in the states. The “third generation” feels shaky in the time period Wolf covers, which is part of why it’s so fascinating. It’s easy to make a film about the hip-shaking, war-hating hippies and punks of the 1950’s onwards – the period 1904-45 is certainly not one remembered for the waves of youths. But with so many lost in war and hopeless rebellion, remembering this generation is clearly something important – the stories of the four narrators come together to portray the teenager as we know it about to be born. It’s a nuanced, original look at a group of teenagers often overlooked, but one that their modern culture owes a lot to. On my way out of the cinema, I overheard a woman ask “but what about the obnoxious teenagers, then? Where were they?” I can’t help but feel she was missing the director’s point in bringing history to joyful, vivid, lustful life. 

Gravity: review

Space is terrifying. No water, no sound,  no oxygen. Humankind’s ongoing fascination with the void above our heads has given us several monumental (and terrible) movies, but “Gravity” pushes the genre to its limits. Two astronauts spin through space, with nothing to hold on to but one another. The film’s tagline is “don’t let go” – and by god, how you won’t want to.

“Gravity” is nothing short of filmmaking mastery. For such a simple premise (Sandra Bullock! Space!), the film gets surprisingly deep over the course of 90 minutes. Teeming with images of birth and isolation, director Alfonso Cuarón grapples with these very human issues in an inhuman atmosphere. The first thing the audience learns from “gravity” is that life in space is impossible. For Dr. Ryan Stone and Matt Kowalski, being left adrift is not only about survival – it’s about isolation. The loss of communication with planet Earth gives the film an edge on other thrillers: no one is there to save the heroes now. Repeated communication to “Houston in the blind” only serves to further our fears that Kowalski and Stone are totally and completely alone.

Part of the film’s mastery is the sound of silence. In space, there is no air, no sound, and Cuarón plays up to this wonderfully. Often, only Steven Price’s excellent score can be heard: even more often, there is no sound at all. The magnificent first scene of destruction is played out in silence, making the film all the more unnerving. The dialogue adheres to this rule too – often we can only hear Bullock’s laboured breathing through her suit. The range in Bullock’s breathing takes the audience into the film – the audience finds themselves sipping her disappearing oxygen supply just as she does.

I can’t praise Sandra Bullock’s performance enough – it’s utterly faultless. While George Clooney seems to be on (sorry) autopilot here, she handles her character’s story arc with a kind of power rarely given to a woman in a thriller. She is totally in command of this difficult role, from her dry sense of humour to her utter terror at the loneliness of space. It’s interesting that this role could so easily have been given to a man – but by risking Hollywood’s expectations, “Gravity” has given us one of the most powerful female performances in years.   Bullock said herself in interviews that the director took a risk by casting a woman as the lead in a sci-fi blockbuster – “there’s nothing about my character that screams female”. Yet Dr. Ryan Stone never falls into the clichéd traps of weeping woman or ham fisted, cold hearted woman. She’s a sensitive, well drawn character faced with a terrible situation and ultimately becomes a symbol of hope.

Symbolism is big in “Gravity”. It’s the kind of symbolism that’s easy to dismiss as quasi-philosophical nonsense and enjoy the film anyway, but the images of rebirth are the ones you can’t escape. The film teems with foetal imagery, from the cords connecting Kowalski and Stone, curled up in zero gravity while light streams in from behind her. By connecting space to gestation, Cuarón has created a story of rebirth and new beginnings as well as a sci-fi thriller. Ryan Stone comes full circle over the film’s ninety minutes and is “reborn” at the end of the film. This is Alfonso Cuarón – we expect symbolism – but it doesn’t detract from enjoying Gravity as a thriller that actually thrills. Stunning visuals and a tightly focussed plot make “Gravity” a tense, forceful masterpiece. Believe the hype.

Carrie: review

A review of “Carrie”, released in October 2013 and published on Scannain.com

“Carrie” is going to suffer hugely from comparisons with Brian De Palma’s 1979 masterpiece, that’s inevitable. Directorially, ”Carrie” is almost shot-for-shot an homage to Brian De Palma’s 1979 original, which I promised myself I wouldn’t mention. Kimberly Peirce has taken an “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” attitude to directing – she offers very little new in terms of direction, with the exception of a few half-assed references to modern technology. It’s technically great – the CGI levitation is fun and the climactic gymnasium scene brings the blood, just as the audience wants it. What makes this reboot different to its predecessor is the two central characters, Margaret and Carrie White, and how they are portrayed on screen.  By choosing two strong actresses for these roles, Peirce saves “Carrie” from becoming a floundering, boring mess of a film.

Chloe Moretz has long been an actress to watch and she does a fine job balancing Carrie White’s social awkwardness with her superpower-esque discovery of her powers. Less spaced out than Sissy Spacek’s performance, Moretz’ Carrie is a clever if naïve girl who doesn’t meet her mother’s abuse with cowardice but knowledge. There’s a very interesting take on the scene where Margeret reads the bible to Carrie – she pushes her away, yelling “that’s not in the Bible, Momma!” By making Carrie clever, we give her a little more spine and the audience feels much more sympathetic for her throughout. She’s less submissive, less pathetic; when she brings hell down on her Prom, we’re almost rooting for her. The main criticism of Moretz is that she’s simply too cute to play Carrie – for a start, she looks about five years younger than her made up, short skirted peers. This makes the bullying all the more horrifying – Carrie looks like a little girl, and an absolutely adorable one. The classic image of a creepy-looking Sissy Spacek is totally refuted by the wide-eyed, curly haired Moretz. Her homemade clothes look hip – Carrie looks like the girl you want to be friends with, not the girl who’s horribly bullied. Where is Carrie’s John Bender? She looks as though she’d be scooped up by the hipsters as soon as she could say “Oh, telekinesis? You’ve probably never heard of it.”

Julianne Moore is suitably crazed and religious as overbearing mother Margaret. Being both abusive and loving is a hard line for an actor to walk, and though Moore’s performance feels over the top at times, it’s ultimately what the role calls for.  While Margaret White is often portrayed as evil, Moore’s performance suggests a more mentally ill woman - what could be a sad reality. Similarly to Moretz’ clever Carrie, Moore’s mentally unstable Margaret is undoubtedly a horrible figure, but also one that inspires an odd sort of sympathy.  It’s unfortunate for “Carrie” that the rest of the cast feel as though they are going through the motions – Portia Doubleday is over-evil in her role as Chris, and Judy Greer just can’t shake Kitty from Arrested Development for me. Carrie is, essentially, about those two central characters – but it’s a shame the two solid central performances are matched against poor supporting ones.

My main problem with “Carrie” was simply that it’s a film that, like it’s central character, doesn’t quite fit in. It’s scary at times, but not scary enough to even consider alongside the utterly terrifying 1979 version. It feels like a teen movie at times – graduation, prom, the cute boys and the sinister YouTube clips – but the blood-soaked final third puts paid to that. “Carrie” doesn’t quite succeed in mixing genres the way it wants to, which makes it much harder to enjoy. During the scenes when Carrie lets her telekinesis loose on the town, even Moretz looks slightly confused by proceedings, staring at her hands in a weird mixture of bewilderment and rage. That’s not quite what I felt after watching, but “Carrie” could have been so much better. A little streamlining of the subject matter and more focus on genre would have gone a long way with this one. That said, “Carrie” never tried to be Oscar bait and it’s an immensely enjoyable film – not too scary, not to cheesey and with stellar lead performances.

Austenland: Review

On paper, a romantic comedy about Jane Austen’s novels and finding true love, produced by the author of Twilight and directed by a first timer Jerusha Hess, sounds like a recipe for absolute disaster. It has to be said that “Austenland” is muddled, over the top, simplistic and occasionally quite dull, but it somehow manages to wind up oddly sweet.

The plot follows unlucky-in-love Keri Russell, a woman so fixated on Austen’s winsome Mr. Darcy that no “real” man could ever compare. At one point in the film, her character bemoans that “all the good men are fictional!” yet the viewer has to wonder what sane man would tolerate Jane’s levels of obsession. Her bedroom is plastered with photos of him; a life-size cardboard cut-out stands in her hall. Jane’s Austen obsession eventually leads her to Austenland, a regency-era style holiday resort that promises immersion in Austen’s world.

In Austenland, Jane finds passion, danger, and herself – amongst so many other things I couldn’t help wondering if Sharon Hale’s script was edited at all.  The film suffers from an overlong, over-complicated story – Jane’s various suitors become less and less interesting until the viewer doesn’t give a damn who she ends up with. On top of the love story, we have a vague look at class divisions with Jane’s “copper package” leaving her clad in dull brown next to the richer guests’ jewels, a seemingly randomplot to shut the place down, all while immersed in ritzy Regency era England. The period element of the film is by far the most enjoyable - the guests sew, hunt, dance and enter Austen’s nineteenth  century world almost entirely. In this respect, the audience is swallowed up by the over the top carnival atmosphere, all pink and diamond. Over the top is clearly what Austenland is going for – it’s just unfortunate that it’s more sugar and less, well, sensibility. Her various men, played by JJ Fields (The cool, reserved Mr. Darcy type), Bret McKenzie (Flight of The Concords musician meets stable boy) and Henry Whittle (Pirate soap star) are amusing in their one-dimensionality for the first hour, but after that the love square gets duller and duller. The supporting cast are much better - Jennifer Coolige’s performance may revolve around mocking British customs, but it’s still funny, and Georgia King is great as a totally OTT repeat guest at Austenland.

Austenland is ultimately quite a watchable, fun film, with a few laughs thrown in for good measure. It looks ridiculous, but in a good way – in the same vein as Baz Luhrmann, Hess has gone for intentional gaudiness and worked it. Jennifer Coolige and JJ Fiels provide some of the best performances, and the always decent Keri Russell centres the piece. What’s unfortunate, however, is that the plot just doesn’t match the pretty – a film about a literary hero should perhaps have worked out its story a little more clearly.