A review by Jeffrey Overstreet
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Twentieth Century Fox presents a film directed by Peyton Reed. Written by Eve Ahlert and Dennis Drake.
Running time: 94 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for sexual humor and dialogue).
Wrapped up in a retro-makeover and Technicolor costumes, Renee Zellweger follows up her acclaimed Chicago performance with a witty, endearing turn in director Peyton Reed’s over-decorated trifle Down with Love. Sending up the popular ’60s sex comedies of Rock Hudson and Doris Day (Pillow Talk, Lover Come Back), the film sets up a formulaic battle of the sexes. But its plot is clearly secondary; the filmmakers are much more interested in giddily exaggerating and celebrating genre conventions.
The movie follows the rising fame of Barbara Novack (Zellweger), the outspoken author of a book titled Down with Love. Novack’s book is an aggressive exhortation for women to behave like foolish men, teaching them to win power and influence by pursuing sex for merely carnal purposes, as many Manhattan playboys do. The book becomes a bestseller. Women embrace it, enraging their neglectful husbands and lovers by becoming promiscuous and self-centered. Men, choking on a taste of their own medicine, get mad. A hero will rise, and the champion of this disgruntled male population turns out to be a ruthless investigative reporter named Catcher Block (Ewan McGregor). Armed with a playboy’s caddish charm, fortune, and good looks, Block sets out to prove Novack is a fraud.
The resulting caper is as light, cheap, and ultimately as insubstantial as cotton candy. It has no further ambitions than to clown around with romantic comedy conventions. And yet, it inadvertently strikes some resonant chords.
Some viewers may object to the film because they, like the men in the film, are offended by promiscuous characters. But the film seems to acknowledge that Novack’s ideas are flawed, even if they are popular. The character who wins the greatest support from the audience is Block’s best friend, Peter McMannus (David Hyde Pierce), an insecure buffoon smitten with Vikki, Novack’s literary agent (Sarah Paulson). To his credit, McMannus finds the complexities of modern romantic maneuvering completely beyond his grasp. He utterly fails to dress up his simple adoration in a disguise of lies and egocentrism.
The film deserves applause for other reasons as well. It has been a while since a comedy has delivered such a heavy dose of old-fashioned wordplay. And the actors relish the opportunity to sink their teeth into such comical banter. The actors (McGregor especially) do better work than the film deserves. The combination of their whole-hearted performances and the enthusiastic work of the set designers and costumers help the film’s virtues match its weaknesses.
Despite its stumbles into inappropriate humor, the story’s morals remain true. Sex divorced from its appropriate context is empty and leads to no end of trouble. Honesty is always the best policy. And the best relationships are those in which each partner is faithful, honors his or her beloved with respect and honesty, and refrains from self-centeredness.
Some interpret the film as a parable of radical feminism. But it seems to me the film shows the flaws of anyone who will stoop to cheapening their behavior in the name of equality. Instead, the irresponsible fool is provoked to realize that his charade of virtue is actually pointing him in the right direction.
Still, before you buy a ticket, please consider whether you want to spend your hard-earned money on a film full of double entendre and sex-oriented sight gags. Comedies that deal with concealed identities and even more cleverly concealed agendas at their best echo Shakespeare. At their worst they recall the uglier episodes of Saturday Night Live. This one relies far too heavily on the latter.
But some will find that the film is worth seeing for its finer points. I am certainly glad to have seen Ewan McGregor in yet another surprisingly confident performance. Being a huge fan of Moulin Rouge, a film in which Nicole Kidman was the glamor and the gusto but McGregor was the beating heart, I could not help but wish for Catcher Block and Barbara Novack to bust out singing. Apparently, they felt the same way. Stay through the end credits, and you’ll see what I mean. Some films save the bloopers to run during the credits. Down With Love saves its finest sequence of all.