Review: "Blithe Spirit"

"Blithe Spirit" is one of those odd films that seems to have a lot going for it -- likeable cast of name actors, nifty production values, based on a play by Noël Coward that was previously adapted into a 1945 film starring Rex Harrison -- and yet it all can't save it from being a predictable, boring drip.

Set in 1937, it stars Dan Stevens as Charles Condomine, a successful Brit author who is currently at work on his first film screenplay, hoping to break into Hollywood so he can move there with his American second wife, Ruth (Isla Fisher). But through a series of events he comes to be haunted by the ghost of his first wife, also an American -- now there's trouble! -- named Elvira, (Leslie Mann), who died in a tragic horse riding accident five years earlier.

Only Charles can see and hear her, which leads to several scenes where he gets in trouble for saying terrible things to her which the alive people perceive as being directed at them. That should be a one-off joke, and then a smart guy like Charles would figure out not to be baited. But it gets milked for several more laborious scenes, such as with Ruth's big-shot movie producer father (Simon Kunz). 

We've seen a lot of dead-come-to-life movies over the years, and even though this technically was one of the earliest such stories all the jokes are retreads of stuff we've seen before: a piano that seems to play itself, Elvira scaring off the cook with sharp cutlery, etc.

I liked how Elvira turns up in a completely different outfit every time we see her, which mostly seems like an excuse to show off Mann in terrific period costumes. She looks great in them too, as she did in the similar-era "Motherless Brooklyn" as a femme fatale. Maybe she was born too late; she would've done swimmingly in a rapid-patter Howard Hawks comedy.

Fisher has less to do, growing increasingly irate at her husband spending so much time with his "ex," as he calls Elvira. Though she gets one fun scene when the ghost puts a mickey in her drink and she goes for an impromptu, shallow swim at her own party.

Elvira is excellent help with his screenplay, Charles having endured a killer case of writer's block of late -- along with other, more marital, impeded impulses. Turns out Elvira may have been more than just a muse for him.

Judi Dench turns up as Madame Arcati, a faux French spiritualist who is ruined when her levitating stage act goes south during a performance before a posh crowd including Charles. He gets the idea to have her do a private seance at his mansion so he can gather material to introduce a supernatural element to his script. But it ends up snatching Elvira from the great beyond.

Director Edward Hall and screenwriters Pier Ashworth, Meg Leonard and Nick Moorcroft work furiously to avoid delving into any stickier aspects of the film's metaphysical implications. Like, where exactly to these souls go, having no memory of having died? And why is Elvira initially insubstantial, but soon can touch Charles and do... other things? And is Arcati really a fraud or just a self-deluded kook who finally gets a spell right?

As Charles, Stevens basically just spends 99 minutes doing that flustered upper-crust British gentleman thing, a captive of his circumstances rather than the author of them. He never seems to have an original idea of his own, though in the end we see the reason why. (A bit of a modernist nod in the vein of "The Wife." Ghost girl power!)

In the end, "Blithe Spirit" is the story of a feckless chap who cheats on his wife with his ghost wife, knocking on the door of every obvious joke you can think of. I hate to say it, but if you wanted to remake this material it probably would've worked better as a broad contemporary comedy, maybe a little bit raunchy and crude. 

Adam Sandler and Kristen Wiig toiling in Jersey seems about the right speed. Surprisingly, I'd actually rather watch that than this DOA rehash.

 

 

Reeling Backward: "In Which We Serve"

"In Which We Serve" starts off as an annoyingly British bit of World War II propaganda. You know the type -- lots of really fast talking, airy upper-crust accents, and stiff upper lip type of bravery.

In the first scene the H.M.S. Torrin is fatally crippled by a German dive bomber. After the captain -- played by Noel Coward, who also wrote the screenplay, co-directed, produced, wrote the musical score and, I think, personally provided all the catering -- gives the order to abandon ship, he and the other survivors give the sinking vessel three cheers.

The first half of the film is also filled with many cutaway scenes of the sailors' personal lives back home -- saying hello and goodbye to their wives, meeting soon-to-be wives, etc. They happen so rapidly that there's more smoochy time than fighting for a good long while, a when you're expecting a good ripping war movie, one feels like quoting the little kid from "The Princess Bride": "They're kissing again!"

But as the picture wore on I found myself liking it more and more. As the captain and his crew cling to a life raft awaiting rescue as German fighter planes strafe them, picking off more and more of them, they reflect on their lives aboard the Torrin, how it shaped them, and how they struggled to maintain that famously imperturbable English facade.

This was the only movie that Coward directed, reportedly at the behest of Winston Churchill himself, who was friend of the prolific playwright/composer. Coward decided he needed an able assistant to lean on, and chose a fellow named David Lean, who'd done some assistant directing and gained a reputation as a top-notch editor. Lean insisted on being listed as co-director, so "In Which We Serve" marks the first time Lean was credited as a director.

A number of young British actors have small roles in this picture, including James Donald and a very young Richard Attenborough, making his screen debut as a sailor who loses his nerve during a fight and deserts his post. Despite not receiving a screen credit, Attenborough has a considerable amount of screen time, including a great scene where the captain addresses his cowardice in front of the entire crew without naming him.

The battle scenes are a bit hammy -- there wasn't a lot of resources to put into a war picture in 1942, as one might imagine. So Coward/Lean rely upon a lot of stock footage that is only haphazardly woven together.

As I say, the second half of the film contains many very moving moments. The biggest impact is the scene in which Shorty Blake (John Mills), a low-ranking seaman, receives a letter from his wife.

She had been staying at the house of the chief petty officer when it was bombed, killing the officer's wife and mother. Blake goes up to the mess to let the chief, Hardy (Bernard Miles), know that the only members of his family were killed. His own wife was unhurt, and successfully gave birth to a baby boy. So the chief, in the midst of his own grief, congratulates the seaman for becoming a father.

What a moment -- and just one reason why I left "In Which We Serve" much more impressed than when I started.

3.5 stars

Review: "Easy Virtue"

I wanted to like "Easy Virtue" more than I did.

This new adaptation of the Noel Coward play -- the first one was in 1928, directed by a fledgling Alfred Hitchcock -- has all the ingredients of a delightful romp. You've got the war between the classes, as upstart American girl marries into upper-crust British society. Plus the fact that she's a proto-feminist who races cars and treasures her independence sets up lots of opportunities for puncturing the hot-air balloon of English aristocracy.

The movie revs up promisingly, but never quite seems to get into gear.

I have to say I think the problem is Jessica Biel in the starring role. She just doesn't have the ear for Coward's erudite dialogue and subtly serrated wit. Particularly standing next to accomplished thespians like Colin Firth and Kristen Scott Thomas, her line readings sound so ... well, read.

Her physical performance plays better. Wearing a platinum blonde bob and killer Roaring' 20s ensembles, Biel struts into a room with verve and style. It's the sort of role where everyone is supposed to stop what they're doing and pay attention to her, and Biel seems to welcome the stares.

Her character, Larita, has just married John Whittaker (Ben Barnes), the impressionable scion of the Whittaker clan. Their expansive summer home looks like something out of a picture book, but there's a rot in the foundation.

Mr. Whittaker (Firth) only reluctantly came home from the Great War, and the way he putters around the estate, unshaven and paying little attention to his wife or even their financial state, suggests that much of him remains permanently abroad.

Mrs. Whittaker (Scott Thomas) is all velvet and steel, an implacable foe hidden by a veneer of perfect manners. She takes an instant dislike to Larita, because of who she is but also because Mrs. Whittaker was vying to marry John off to one of the local aristocracy.

Their two unmarried daughters are Marion and Hilda (Katherine Parkinson and Kimberly Nixon), whose dimming prospects pushes them toward the apathy of their father and the domineering ways of their mother, respectively.

Director/co-writer Stephan Elliott makes an interesting choice to weave period pop songs into his scenes, sometimes even having the characters sing along with tunes like "Mad About the Boy" and "Let's Misbehave." Many of the songs are by Noel Coward and Cole Porter, and the sound is delightful, but sometimes the music intrudes on the film's mood rather than enhancing it.

The most enjoyment to be had out of "Easy Virtue" is the dialogue, especially the escalating ripostes and parries between Larita and Mrs. Whittaker. As more of Larita's past comes to light, their simmering feud turns to all-out war.

Elliott and co-screenwriter Sheridan Jobbins change around much of Coward's play, although the basic architecture remains, as well as the delicious barbs. "Have you had as many lovers as they say?" Mrs. Whittaker asks Larita, who replies, "Of course not. Hardly any of them actually loved me."

It's exchanges like this that make "Easy Virtue," despite its shortcomings, a modest delight.

2.5 stars