In 1939, when the book "Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day" was written, such films were cranked out by the gross. At the very best, they were directed by Howard Hawks, and they flowed along with easy wit and little time for the audience to question any plot weaknesses. At the worst, they were trite potboilers. Alas, this film apes the latter. It trots out every single "screwball romantic comedy" trope from "Dinner at Eight" to "Pillow Talk" without bringing a single new thing to the mix. So much for the plot.
Amy Adams plays the equivalent of "Lorelei Lee" (and pastiches Carole Lombard and every other screwball blonde in cinematic history) turned up to eleven. She's madcap! She's ditzy! She just can't say no! Frances McDormand is a capable actress, but she attempts to conceal her faux British accent behind chewing her words, as if she's afraid to be heard clearly. So much for the two leads.
With questionable acting, 2-dimensional characters and the flimsiest of all possible plots, the only thing that can save the film would be very deft direction. Alas, even that it lacks. It's always an indication of the weakness of a film when the director throws in "mood-setting music" in every scene. Such is the case here. Need the audience to get excited? Blare the rinky-dink jazz! Need them to try to care about this romance or that? Cue the sobbing strings! Heavy-handed? That doesn't even begin to describe it.
There is only one group of people who could find this film appealing: women with a taste for "retro" styling whose cinematic standards have consistently been lowered to the basement floor. Anyone who appreciates sparkling, original romantic comedies will simply find it woefully lacking in every regard.
Amy Adams plays the equivalent of "Lorelei Lee" (and pastiches Carole Lombard and every other screwball blonde in cinematic history) turned up to eleven. She's madcap! She's ditzy! She just can't say no! Frances McDormand is a capable actress, but she attempts to conceal her faux British accent behind chewing her words, as if she's afraid to be heard clearly. So much for the two leads.
With questionable acting, 2-dimensional characters and the flimsiest of all possible plots, the only thing that can save the film would be very deft direction. Alas, even that it lacks. It's always an indication of the weakness of a film when the director throws in "mood-setting music" in every scene. Such is the case here. Need the audience to get excited? Blare the rinky-dink jazz! Need them to try to care about this romance or that? Cue the sobbing strings! Heavy-handed? That doesn't even begin to describe it.
There is only one group of people who could find this film appealing: women with a taste for "retro" styling whose cinematic standards have consistently been lowered to the basement floor. Anyone who appreciates sparkling, original romantic comedies will simply find it woefully lacking in every regard.