December 11: Becoming Jane with Rachel Getting Married

When I challenged myself to try to write a review a day for the month of December, I didn't realize just how much of an effort it was going to be. I've certainly got newfound respect for people who operate blogs for profit (y'all know who you are). I suppose I could just post about anything (and I do and I have) but my goal was to try to write about the many films I've seen in the last month or so.

Two of the more recent items to cross my path were Becoming Jane and Rachel Getting Married, both starring Anne Hathaway. Of course, I first encountered this actress when she co-starred with Julie Andrews in The Princess Diaries, and I'd watched her attempts to shed her perky image (which she solidified in Ella Enchanted) by co-starring in Havoc and Brokeback Mountain. Of course sharing the screen with that goddess Meryl Streep in the middling The Devil Wears Prada only served to make her more appealing.

But portraying the British author Jane Austen in a speculative biography? I was a bit surprised that there weren't more cries against this from the folks across the pond -- but then, lately, that seems to be a mini-trend -- allowing non-British actress to portray iconic English writers (e.g., Renee Zellweger inMiss Potter or Nicole Kidman in The Hours).

Well, Hathaway falls more closely in the Zellweger camp; she tries mightily but fails to convince. Granted this film, written by Kevin Hood and Sarah Williams and directed by Julian Jarrold (who was responsible for the Cliff Notes version of Brideshead Revisited) plays more like a 18th-century episode of "Sex in the City". While it is purportedly based on letters from Austen to her sister Cassandra, the plot cobbles bits from her work in a vain effort to cash in on the Austen craze that ceaselessly continues despite hitting its high point in the mid-1990s . I have to give Jarrold credit, though for wisely surrounding Ms. Hathaway with a bevy of strong character actors including the redoubtable Maggie Smith, as wells as Julie Walters, James Cromwell and Ian Richardson. Perhaps the smartest move was casting up-and-comer James McAvoy as Austen’s roguish love interest.

The period details are there, but there’s a blazing hole in the center because McAvoy and Hathaway don’t generate any real heat. It’s a pity because there’s potential in the story but the writers didn’t trust enough to run with the idea; instead they chose to fall back on Austen’s work and undercut the endeavor. Instead of making something original, they opted for a pallid mashup of Austen’s novels.

Rating: C


Someday Hathaway will find a vehicle that takes full advantage of her abilities. For some critics, that was Rachel Getting Married, but for my money it wasn't. Although I knew the actress had earned an Academy Award nomination for her performance, I was expecting a bit more from the movie itself. Truthfully, I had tried to stay away from reading reviews until after I had seen the film, but once I did and disliked it intensely. I was shocked by how many critics raved about it. I don't know what they saw. (But then again I don't "get" why people love supposedly great TV comedies like "The Office" and "30 Rock".)

The premise of Rachel Getting Married is fraught with promise: Kym (Hathaway) is released from rehab just in time to return home in a tony Connecticut suburb for her sister's wedding. Being self-dramatic, Kym HAS to be the center of attention, all the while decrying the fact. She chafes under her overprotective father (Bill Irwin), barely acknowledges her stepmother Carol (Anne Deveare Smith) and knows exactly how to push the buttons of her sister Rachel (Rosemary DeWitt).

The family doesn't exactly trust Kym and it takes a while before the audience is clued into why. Hathaway offers a detailed confession of her transgression in a monologue set at an A.A. meeting and undoubtedly it was that scene that landed her among the final five Best Actress nominees. Her characterization overall, though, proved that she was more than just a fluffy lightweight. In some ways, it called to mind Liza Minnelli's work in The Sterile Cuckoo. I mention this partly because I see something of resemblance in the two performers and if Hugh Jackman ever does The Boy From Oz as a movie, he should look no further than Hathaway to portray Minnelli.

The other performers vary from note perfect (DeWitt who captures the admixture of sibling love and rivalry) to hammy (Irwin who pushes too hard) to uneven (Debra Winger as the girls' icy mother whose confrontation scene with Hathaway fell flat instead of invoking chills). Much of the problem rests with Lumet's rambling, unfocused script -- the rehearsal dinner seemed to last for half the movie with guest after guest offering toasts to the happy couple. Who were those people? We don't know them? We don't care about them? We barely know the bride and the groom is really a cipher.

Jonathan Demme also has to share some of the blame, allowing scenes to go on far too long. It's meant to be atmospheric, but again, we aren't focused on the key players in this family drama and the peripheral characters are not developed and don't register.

There's a germ of a good story at the heart of this movie but it is not developed. Instead, we get Hathaway's diamond-like performance in a cheap and shabby setting.

Rating: C-