Directed by Mike Newell. Starring Georgina Cates, Hugh Grant, Alan Rickman, Peter Firth, Alun Armstrong, Alan Cox, Prunella Scales, Rita Tushingham, Carol Drinkwater, Gerard McSorley, Clive Merrison. (R)
Don't be misled by the cynical title--this is a dreary tragicomedy set in post-war England, not a moon-eyed escapist lark. Awestruck young Stella (Cates) goes to work for a grotty theatrical troupe, run by the foppish, chain-smoking Grant, a casually cruel sort that nevertheless inspires great affection from the ingenue. This doesn't prevent her from engaging in an uninhibited tryst with acting ringer P. L. O'Hara (Rickman), whose motorcycle entrance provides the film a much needed boost around the midway point, but he's eventually defeated by the jumbled material at the conclusion, leading him to shout the name "Stella" in a way that snickers of Brando parody. There are some dark secrets in store for patient viewers, but director Newell (on the opposite end of the tonal spectrum as his previous collaboration with Grant, "Four Weddings and a Funeral") goes for a chilly, lived-in legitimacy vibe that proves emotionally-smothering, rating the revelations as ho-hum, not ho-boy. Isolated appreciable moments and the highlighted points of Grant's and Rickman's inconsistent performances ensure it's not a total drag, at least.
52/100
Don't be misled by the cynical title--this is a dreary tragicomedy set in post-war England, not a moon-eyed escapist lark. Awestruck young Stella (Cates) goes to work for a grotty theatrical troupe, run by the foppish, chain-smoking Grant, a casually cruel sort that nevertheless inspires great affection from the ingenue. This doesn't prevent her from engaging in an uninhibited tryst with acting ringer P. L. O'Hara (Rickman), whose motorcycle entrance provides the film a much needed boost around the midway point, but he's eventually defeated by the jumbled material at the conclusion, leading him to shout the name "Stella" in a way that snickers of Brando parody. There are some dark secrets in store for patient viewers, but director Newell (on the opposite end of the tonal spectrum as his previous collaboration with Grant, "Four Weddings and a Funeral") goes for a chilly, lived-in legitimacy vibe that proves emotionally-smothering, rating the revelations as ho-hum, not ho-boy. Isolated appreciable moments and the highlighted points of Grant's and Rickman's inconsistent performances ensure it's not a total drag, at least.
52/100