Shopgirl was my Netflix movie of the week, a romance to commemorate the annual week of romance (this message brought to you by Hallmark). I digress. I had no expectations or preconceived notions about this movie; I only knew that it was based on a novella written by star Steve Martin, whom I adore, and who also wrote the screenplay. Also, I generally love Claire Danes and Jason Schwartzman, the other stars of this film, which, along with Martin, were the reasons my interest was piqued. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to maintain my interest in this film, which had potential, but which left me feeling about as blank, empty, and numb about a film as I can be left to feel - and all without preconceived notions, as I mentioned previously.
Danes plays Mirabelle Buttersfield, a transplant to Los Angeles from Vermont. She is an aspiring artist plagued by mountains of debt and. the viewer comes to learn, medicated depression, and she earns her meager living by working behind the glove counter at Saks Fifth Avenue. Through her mundane daily life, she encounters Jeremy (Schwartzman), also an aspiring artist and something of a slightly egocentric man-child, who is clearly taken with Mirabelle but lacks the certain je ne sais quoi to spark her from her malaise. Though she is willing to give it a try, in her boredom and loneliness, she is soon distracted when wealthy Ray Porter (Martin) begins to woo her. He treats her to dinner, lavishes her with attention and gifts, though he makes it clear to her that he is unwilling to commit to anything more than a sexual relationship, and sweeps her off her feet. Mirabelle devotes herself to Ray in ways he is not willing or unable to reciprocate, in hopes that he will change his outlook on their relationship. In the meantime, Jeremy seeks to change his approach to women and his future with the intention of changing Mirabelle's outlook of him in the process.
For most of the film, I felt like I was watching a mishmash of Lost in Translation and My So-Called Life. Claire is grown up now and a long way from Angela Chase, but her grown-up angst, or at least, Danes' performance in this film echoed that confused and achingly earnest character she played more than a decade ago. What is a little confounding is that Martin's Ray, as well as Martin (who, puzzlingly, narrates the piece, force-feeding the viewer an understatement in place of allowing the viewer to appreciate what was just watched), wants to treat Mirabelle like a fragile, delicate waif to be protected and fixed. Yet, Danes, a very good actress in general, plays Mirabelle as vulnerable but not necessarily this wilting flower suffering a depressed quarterlife crisis. Though her character is desperate for love, in some ways, I didn't generally feel like I was watching someone who genuinely felt that desperation, and it left me disconnected from her character (though I related to her general sense of apathy and boredom).
Also, having never read the original novella, I was a little puzzled as to why we do not find out that Mirabelle is taking anti-depressants until she suffers her panic attack halfway through the film. We see her take pills, but there is never a close-up of what these pills are, and they are stored in and among her vitamins and things of that nature. Since her character did not betray a truly depressed condition until after she supposedly stopped taking this medication, yet it seemed to inform her choices with the few stops she made to her little shelf of pills, I felt this was quite a narrative flaw that should have been better developed when adapting story to screen.
Though the film feels a little like Lost in Translation, it lacks any of the warmth the viewer felt between Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson. I never believed that Ray and Mirabelle could even be a sexual partnering, much less anything with emotional substance. Steve Martin never permitted the Ray character to show any warmth, even though he betrayed the subtlest hints, despite Ray's best protests, that he actually loved Mirabelle. In fact, if it weren't for Schwartzman, I would have found this movie a cold, gray, and empty piece, and I don't think that was the intent at all. Also, I never felt that it was a meeting of lonely minds so much as a meeting of one lonely mind to one mind in the middle of a mid-life crisis, who was also a bit of a sex addict. It also would have been nice to know why the Ray character was seeing a psychiatrist.
In the end, I don't really think it can be classified a romance. I sort of felt it was the story of the coming of age and of the journey of inner strength gained by the Mirabelle character, rather than a love triangle between an unfeeling, unstable fifty-year-old wealthy businessman; an affable but sincere twentysomething; and Mirabelle. Which would be fine, except that this character study was slow and distracted by all of the supposed "romance."
I just didn't like this movie all that much, I guess, except for Jason Schwartzman, who is always a treat to watch but played goofy Jeremy with an undeniable sweetness - which also made the film all too predictable. From frame one, the viewer knew Mirabelle would eventually end up with Jeremy, so as a romance, it lost some credibility. As a character study, though, Jeremy and Ray are interesting foils to and options for the adrift Mirabelle.
All in all, I felt sort of neutral about this film, which I seem to be feeling more often about movies lately. I think I have to rate this one a 6 for being cute but mediocre. The film's heart was in the right place, but it was a little slow, cold, and empty for me to connect to it in any meaningful way. As such, it does not pass my test. Despite the fact that I love Steve Martin and his writing, and the cinematography in this film was actually quite beautfiul as well, Shopgirl left something to be desired.