Shopgirl

[mouton]

“Shopgirl” opens with a fluid drift through aisles upon excessive aisles of lipsticks and eye shadows at the Los Angeles chapter of Saks Fifth Avenue. As we weave in and around these pillars of masked beauty products, a sweeping score of sappy strings sucks us along until we reach the secluded glove department where Mirabelle Buttersfield (Claire Danes) slouches over the counter, hands crossed. People either walk past her without noticing she is there or stop, feel sorry for her and then walk past her. Sadly for us, we must stop, we cannot ignore her and we cannot keep going. We must live in Mirabelle’s sullen, uneventful existence for what feels like an indeterminate amount of time and we will wonder why she exists at all. The overbearing orchestration suddenly drops out and we are for a moment relieved it is quiet. It is just for a moment though as it is now too quiet, eerie quiet. “Shopgirl” continues like this, changing moods between awkwardly quiet and nauseously schmaltzy through to the end, at which point I had sunken so deep in my chair with despair.

Mirabelle is a 28-year-old native of Vermont who moved to L.A. for no apparent reason other than it not being Vermont. She works, or rather alternates between standing and leaning behind a counter for 8 hours each day, at Saks then goes home in her rickety pickup truck to her mismatched apartment where she occasionally draws. She has nothing in particular of substance in her life and doesn’t seem to mind being completely stagnant, going through the exact same routine every day. Granted, repetition is a part of life, but repetition in a film is just plain, well, repetitive. Director Anand Tucker is apparently a big admirer of repetition as each scene in “Shopgirl” is essentially a recreation of other scenes. Establishing shots of Mirabelle’s apartment make numerous appearances each time the story shifts to that location with little variation in angle taking any humourous air out of the illogical maze of stairs it takes to find her apartment. Most scenes shared by Mirabelle and Ray Porter (Steve Martin) are sex scenes and despite being tame and tasteful, there are only so many times I can sit through these uncomfortable moments. And has anyone ever noticed how HUGE Mr. Martin’s hands are?

Speaking of Steve, “Shopgirl” is his baby, as he is the author of both the screenplay and the novella it’s based on. Filling Ray Porter’s shoes in the film puts Martin’s motivation into a questionable context as he comes across as living out a fantasy to be the unattached older guy who gets the unsuspecting younger trophy girl. Both the novella and the film portray Ray as a man confident with his desire to remain free while using that same confidence as a means to hide his loneliness and genuine desire to be loved. The film falters when it places more importance on Ray’s plight than on Mirabelle’s as the title character now makes no decisions. Instead she is chosen by Ray or by her other younger suitor, Jeremy (played by Jason Schwartzman who provides some truly funny moments as a dysfunctional, romantic roadie). Martin’s elimination of key story elements from the novella that explain the why’s of Mirabelle’s depression and fear of men or even Ray’s rationale behind choosing Mirabelle in the first place leave so much unexplained that by the time Ray Porter’s voice over commentary on Mirabelle finding some semblance of happiness closes the film (accompanied of course by the reliable string section), it is hollow and meaningless. As is she and as is this film.

[tabuno]

I finally caught up with this relational movie that is in the same league as LOST IN TRANSLATION (2003) and instead of Bill Murray, we have Steve Martin presenting an intimate and understated performance that really shines and reflects a fasincating examination of the more pedestrian experience of relationships often overlooked. Most films that focus on relationships are often overly, dramatically scripted failing to capture the reality and authencity of having emotions for another person. While such traditional movies are emotional compelling, they reek of stylistic distortion and distraction askewing storytelling for what in action thrillers would be considered special effects without substance.

SHOPGIRL (2005) offers the audience that rare glimpse into the more mundane, perhaps true awkwardness of love and the oftentimes different and more murky assumptions that all of us take into relationships as well as our fanciful filters of reality during a relationship. This movie is an important cautionary tale that almost all teenagers and young adults would be well warned to become aware of before their lives are destined to be over without realization of what it means to be human and are left like most of us with regret and memories of hoped for dreams, missed opportunities, and "what ifs."

The beginning relational focus in the movie is a bit hard to accept and there are subplots that seemingly are lost among the more rationally, linearly-inclined but as in LOST IN TRANSLATION (2003), this movie is about "what just is," not what must be and logically, dramatically has to be contained in a movie script that is expected by the historic traditions of romantic movies. Instead SHOPGIRL offers its audience a more reflective but honest portrayal that appears to capture a more essential truth of the mundance, but yet more captivating reality of relationships, a travelogue of authenticity more subdued but able to incorate the more sublmine, intense feelings that people often project and experience in real life.

This movie is about becoming stale or growing, about human perceptions, hopes, and dreams and the confusing and oftentimes difficult lives each of us must negotiate without all the dramatically cute and dazzlingly pat answers that most romantic movies offer us, like the razzle dazzle that Billy Flynn in CHICAGO (2002) seduces us with his gushy and mushy script devices. We are too often hypnotized by dramatic movies that when all is said and one only reflect a simplistic emptiness, an unreflective storyline that we've all become used to expect in our great movie classics. But in SHOPGIRL, we get an independent and refreshing look at a meaningful and substantively well performed experience and a scripted human drama with important messages for those of us who are struggling in our search for real relationships that "hold" onto us.