cmqp
Joined Sep 2002
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cmqp's rating
I saw this movie with some professional reviewers' opinions uppermost in my mind. The prevailing view, I thought, was that this was a patchwork of sentimental nonsense sewn together by swearing, a Christmas theme, and some good acting. The reviews were wrong (again!), and it's my assumption that those same boring, cynical, elitist reviewers would've showered 'Love Actually' with praise had it been French and shot in black-and-white. I totally fell for this movie - a charming, beautifully-made festive confection.
You'll already know, I'm sure, of the set-up. Several inter-linked love stories of different types, played out in the weeks before Christmas, centred on Hugh Grant's bachelor Prime Minister falling for his tea-girl (Martine McCutcheon). From Downing Street, the love flows in all sorts of directions, although never really beyond middle-class town-houses owned by people with vague, well-paid jobs, (but what would you expect?) To be fair, there were a couple of stories whose cutting wouldn't have damaged the movie - the English loser in Wisconsin, for instance - but I guess Curtis had a load of points to make about love, and he wasn't compromising on any of them.
Grant's Prime Minister is well-acted but pretty unrealistic, of course. Having said that, how many US Presidents have we sat through in movies who are the epitome of square-jawed greatness, and bear no resemblance whatsoever to the real occupants of the White House? More power to a kick-ass British leader. McCutcheon gives a lovely performance as the beguiling beverage-server, and Emma Thompson is brilliant as usual. Her strand, as the PM's sister whose husband (Alan Rickman) is being tempted by a predatory colleague, is heart-rending and sincere. The same is true of Colin Firth's character, whose wife cheats on him with his brother, and who ends up engaged to a beautiful Portugese cleaner. Each tale has a share of laughs, and the body-double pair who talk traffic and motorways while rehearsing their sex-scenes, are hilarious. Equally, Rowan Atkinson's tiny cameo, which I haven't seen mentioned anywhere, is a triumph of performance comedy.
I feel like I could be one of the characters in this movie. I'm a Londoner in my own personal Curtis-esque scenario - adoring the girl of my dreams even though she's with another man. Perhaps because of this, the story about the guy videoing his best friend's wedding won me over even more than the rest, not least because of it's wonderful resolution.
Maybe you have to be in love in London to appreciate Curtis' latest work as much as I did. That's certainly the impression I got from my unmarried, uncommitted friends. But they enjoyed the jokes and laughed loads, and from a comedy, that's a pretty good return. Christmas, love, and London have rarely looked so tempting from the late-November drizzle.
You'll already know, I'm sure, of the set-up. Several inter-linked love stories of different types, played out in the weeks before Christmas, centred on Hugh Grant's bachelor Prime Minister falling for his tea-girl (Martine McCutcheon). From Downing Street, the love flows in all sorts of directions, although never really beyond middle-class town-houses owned by people with vague, well-paid jobs, (but what would you expect?) To be fair, there were a couple of stories whose cutting wouldn't have damaged the movie - the English loser in Wisconsin, for instance - but I guess Curtis had a load of points to make about love, and he wasn't compromising on any of them.
Grant's Prime Minister is well-acted but pretty unrealistic, of course. Having said that, how many US Presidents have we sat through in movies who are the epitome of square-jawed greatness, and bear no resemblance whatsoever to the real occupants of the White House? More power to a kick-ass British leader. McCutcheon gives a lovely performance as the beguiling beverage-server, and Emma Thompson is brilliant as usual. Her strand, as the PM's sister whose husband (Alan Rickman) is being tempted by a predatory colleague, is heart-rending and sincere. The same is true of Colin Firth's character, whose wife cheats on him with his brother, and who ends up engaged to a beautiful Portugese cleaner. Each tale has a share of laughs, and the body-double pair who talk traffic and motorways while rehearsing their sex-scenes, are hilarious. Equally, Rowan Atkinson's tiny cameo, which I haven't seen mentioned anywhere, is a triumph of performance comedy.
I feel like I could be one of the characters in this movie. I'm a Londoner in my own personal Curtis-esque scenario - adoring the girl of my dreams even though she's with another man. Perhaps because of this, the story about the guy videoing his best friend's wedding won me over even more than the rest, not least because of it's wonderful resolution.
Maybe you have to be in love in London to appreciate Curtis' latest work as much as I did. That's certainly the impression I got from my unmarried, uncommitted friends. But they enjoyed the jokes and laughed loads, and from a comedy, that's a pretty good return. Christmas, love, and London have rarely looked so tempting from the late-November drizzle.
It's easy to laugh at this film, because the jokes are so broad, but it's equally easy to be offended. The issue I have with the movie is that, in the course of making the point that we should see the inner-beauty in fat people, the Farrellys are implying that by being overweight you are universally ugly. In fact, in the world of Shallow Hal, if you are fat, you are a well-meaning mammoth who couldn't possibly be fancied unless under hypnosis or after an epiphany.
The movie also seems to suggest that the friends of fat people are ugly, and that uglies keep each other's company because no one else will want to associate with them, which is another reinforcement of social divisions. All of Rosemary's (Paltrow) friends are, as we see at the end, equally fat or gross or otherwise physically undesirable. Most disturbingly, the Farrellys undermine the inner-beauty point they've spent $40 million trying to make through Hal, because Hal's friends betray the judgmental reality. When his buddies see Rosemary for what she is, i.e. grossly fat, they are universally horrified in a "what are you doing with her?" way, which carries a more powerful punch than any of the tepid attempts to suggest she's beautiful because of her personality (moulded, we are told, by years of personal abuse because of her size).
The overall message is correct - inner beauty is ultimately what counts, because a sparkling character will outlast youthful good looks by decades. But the Farrelly's have approached the subject in a way that actually insults, rather than genuinely educates. It's not going to uplift anyone who's overweight, it'll just depress them. The majority of the film perpetuates the idea that being fat or ugly makes you a pariah or the object of sympathy or vulgar fascination.
There are some sweet moments, and a few laughs, so the movie's not a wholly worthless experience. But in the process of making its (valid) point it reinforces, rather than rejects, stereotypes.
The movie also seems to suggest that the friends of fat people are ugly, and that uglies keep each other's company because no one else will want to associate with them, which is another reinforcement of social divisions. All of Rosemary's (Paltrow) friends are, as we see at the end, equally fat or gross or otherwise physically undesirable. Most disturbingly, the Farrellys undermine the inner-beauty point they've spent $40 million trying to make through Hal, because Hal's friends betray the judgmental reality. When his buddies see Rosemary for what she is, i.e. grossly fat, they are universally horrified in a "what are you doing with her?" way, which carries a more powerful punch than any of the tepid attempts to suggest she's beautiful because of her personality (moulded, we are told, by years of personal abuse because of her size).
The overall message is correct - inner beauty is ultimately what counts, because a sparkling character will outlast youthful good looks by decades. But the Farrelly's have approached the subject in a way that actually insults, rather than genuinely educates. It's not going to uplift anyone who's overweight, it'll just depress them. The majority of the film perpetuates the idea that being fat or ugly makes you a pariah or the object of sympathy or vulgar fascination.
There are some sweet moments, and a few laughs, so the movie's not a wholly worthless experience. But in the process of making its (valid) point it reinforces, rather than rejects, stereotypes.
It's hard not to adore this film. I've seen it so many times I can speak along with the dialogue virtually throughout, but it loses none of its magic. Can there really be anyone left who hasn't heard the premise of this movie? If you are that person, then here it is: grumpy prima donna weatherman (Bill Murray), frustrated by being stuck on local news, is sent with his sexy new producer (Andie MacDowell) and irritating cameraman (Chris Elliot) to the backwater of all backwaters, Punxsatawney, Pennsylvania. Why? Because that's the centre of the Groundhog Day festival where, every February 2nd, America waits to see if there will be six more weeks of winter. Murray is bored and fed up after being sent to cover the story, but his distress only escalates when he realises he is stuck in Groundhog Day every day. No matter what he does, at 6am every morning he is back in his bed listening to Sonny and Cher.
This movie, while definitively romantic in places, is always, always imaginative. We follow Murray's character through depression at his time warp existence, joy at the fact he can do anything including steal thousands of dollars, determination when he realises that he can get to know MacDowell's Rita without her sensing his ulterior motives, and desolation again when he understands the meaninglessness of a life devoted to himself.
Although that all sounds kind of deep, the film is a total joy from start to finish, and you never realise you're being exposed to hardcore philosophical concepts as you see Murray scoffing cake in a diner. Enough laugh-out-loud moments to make this a comedy classic, Groundhog Day also has thoughtful and intelligent subtexts, which make it worth watching dozens of times. Fabulous entertainment.
This movie, while definitively romantic in places, is always, always imaginative. We follow Murray's character through depression at his time warp existence, joy at the fact he can do anything including steal thousands of dollars, determination when he realises that he can get to know MacDowell's Rita without her sensing his ulterior motives, and desolation again when he understands the meaninglessness of a life devoted to himself.
Although that all sounds kind of deep, the film is a total joy from start to finish, and you never realise you're being exposed to hardcore philosophical concepts as you see Murray scoffing cake in a diner. Enough laugh-out-loud moments to make this a comedy classic, Groundhog Day also has thoughtful and intelligent subtexts, which make it worth watching dozens of times. Fabulous entertainment.