Music and Lyrics (2007)

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My face is in the butter! Alex Fletcher (Hugh Grant) is the washed up Eighties pop star who’s reduced to playing Knott’s Berry Farm but thankfully he hasn’t had to take part in TV’s Battle of the 80s Has-Beens (“that Debbie Gibson can take a punch,” he remarks). Not yet.  A saviour comes calling – Britney-a-like dance queen chart diva Cora Corman (Haley Bennett), with her Buddha-in-a-thong philosophy, needs a song and his manager (Brad Garrett) pitches him the project. He can’t get the words right for Way Back Into Love with a pro writer but the girl who waters the plants in his apartment just comes up with rhymes that scan off the top of her head. Sophie Fisher (Drew Barrymore) happens to be a creative writing grad from the New School, traumatized by her relationship with affianced tutor Sloan Cates (Campbell Scott) who has immortalised her in a famous book.  Her older sister, weight loss guru Rhonda (Kristen Johnson) is Alex’ biggest fan and is thrilled when they work together. But they’re on deadline and when Cates turns up in a restaurant Sophie is tongue-tied and Alex fights for her reputation in an amusing scuffle. Alex and Sophie wind up in bed together and she goes to one of his daytime concerts. At a pre-recording session they find that Cora has turned their moving music into a sexy Indian rap and Sophie wants out. They fight and he accuses her of being Cates’ ‘Sally Michaels’ ie a passive aggressive control freak.  But the song still lacks that final verse demanded by Cora and Alex is desperate for a return to credibility  … This is a very funny, droll take on the best period in pop ever!!! Grant is excellent in the second of his four teamings with writer/director Marc Lawrence, who is also responsible for some of the songs and Barrymore is a terrific, nervy comic foil.  It all comes good in the end at Madison Square Garden where true feelings are expressed musically. Wait for the credits sequence with Grant as his former PoP! idol self, with perfect mullet in a Wham!/Duran crossover band. Good, heartwarming fun.

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The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)

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Has there been a more ravishing film in the last twenty years? Hardly. And that’s just the start of it. Patricia Highsmith was an exquisitely stealthy writer, composing short, even, straightforward sentences that revealed ever so slowly the beating heart of psychotic Tom Ripley (and others) in relatively neat novels and stories that crept up on you before unsettling you permanently. The world never seemed quite as balanced thereafter. Ripley is barely making a living playing keyboards at chi-chi events in 1950s NYC when the wealthy father of someone he pretends to know makes him an offer he can’t refuse:  travel to Italy, bring home the reprobate Dickie Greenleaf and all for a handsome reward. When Ripley goes there and finds the beauteous Dickie shacking up with girlfriend Marge he craves their lifestyle, apes their liking for jazz and begins to send some misleading telegrams Stateside to keep Pop on a leash and lure Dickie into a gay relationship (some hope). Then he goes to any lengths necessary to take over Dickie’s life. Including murder …  As a Highsmith fan I had many problems with this in the first instance:  I attended an early screening, attended by writer/director Anthony Minghella and I had a burning question to ask but felt constrained by the company:  why cast pug-ugly Matt Damon as Ripley?  Did Harvey Weinstein force it? Particularly because the moment you see Jude Law as Dickie you are simply breathtaken:  he just stuns. His performance telegraphs contempt, superiority, ease, all at once, he doesn’t have to speak, he just IS. (He was rewarded with an Academy Award nomination).  And the beautiful Alain Delon was the most brilliant, audacious Ripley in Purple Noon/Plein Soleil. When Philip Seymour Hoffman appears as Dickie’s friend Freddie Miles he wipes Damon off the screen – and sees through his act. Perhaps that’s the whole point! In a study of class envy, Ripley is simply outclassed, on every level. Then there are the additions:  did Highsmith not write enough? Minghella created a whole new subplot with a woman called Meredith Logue (Cate Blanchett) whom Ripley encounters on the sea journey to Europe. She’s another discomfiting blonde goddess, balancing Gwyneth Paltrow as Marge but with a different kind of corny effect. So there are a lot of things wrong here if one thinks purely in terms of fidelity. But there are some right things too. There are extraordinary moments at times and isn’t that what Polanski says cinema is, moments? The entire effect can be wondrous, if you can get past the casting.

Pretty in Pink (1986)

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Before Winona Ryder, there was Molly Ringwald. She was Warren Beatty’s protegee and had a few small roles before becoming the mascot for teens everywhere through the cinema de John Hughes, the late lamented auteur who first worked with her in Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club (I may weep). His screenplay, directed by Howard Deutch, is constructed around a prom – who will Andie go with? And yet it’s about friendship, cliques, high school, romance, class, cars, clothes, fathers and daughters. She has the greatest BFF ever in Duckie, the unforgettable Jon Cryer, a mentor in old punk Annie Potts and crushes on Blane, the rich boy, played by Andrew McCarthy. Oh golly. We get to see Dweezil Zappa, Andrew Dice Clay, Gina Gershon, Kristy Swanson, James Spader when he still had hair and Harry Dean Stanton is Dad. The 80s were great. Weren’t they?

High Fidelity (2000)

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Nick Hornby’s book had a zeitgeist quality for thirtysomethings reluctantly on the verge of Gen X adulthood, settling down and letting go of childish things – like humongous vinyl collections. It struck a chord everywhere which is why relocating it from North London to Wicker Park Chicago wasn’t such a stretch. Touchstone optioned it and figured the team behind Grosse Pointe Blank had the right sensibility for it. When director Stephen Frears came on board he restored the 4th wall aspect to the screenplay that star/producer John Cusack thought wouldn’t work – it does, beautifully. They had worked together  very well on The Grifters years earlier. Cusack is a kind of talisman for that age – The Sure Thing, Say Anything, Grosse Pointe Blank and now this – a collection of films from an actor who meant a lot to a lot of people but has never really burnished his career since then with the kinds of roles we might have expected. And if this doesn’t soar to the romantic heights, well, hey, that’s real life, isn’t it?! Settling for what you can get.

Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)

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This came out right after I’d spent my first summer in New York City. Seeing it was like being immersed in a very warm welcoming bath. And what a cherishable film it is, a Chekhovian comedy drama about the impossible lives and loves of a trio of sisters played by the incredible Mia Farrow, Dianne Wiest and Barbara Hershey with Allen himself and Michael Caine and Max von Sydow rounding out the cast. This is on constant rotation chez moi. One of the greats.