It’s so easy for period pieces to lose their humanness: actors
taking a backseat to production design or seizing the moment to become
swanning, affected lunatics from space (the past is an alien place, one
can do whatever). In My One and Only, the actors do both.
It’s 1953, and Anne Devereaux (Renée Zellweger, finally
finding the correct use for her powdered peach-pit of a face) is an
aging beauty, professional wife, and mother of two who leaves her
philandering bandleader husband (the Cryptkeeper Kevin Bacon) after
coming home to one too many naked ladies in their marriage bed. Since
she doesn’t have any skills (you know us women!), she hops from city to
city with the kids, looking for a new husband to feed her and
compliment her and give her money and presents, so that she does not
die in the streets or mess up her hairdo like a nonbeautiful person.
The beaus she encounters are a rotating cast of deadbeat-male
stereotypes: the broke loser, the violent control freak, the rapey one,
the poor one, the married one.
My One and Only is sweet enough: The tailored ’50s fashions
fit Zellweger quite perfectly (and, oh, the hats!), and her small
emotional journey (she discovers a flair for retail and learns that
it’s possible to exist while manless) is better than no emotional
journey at all. Also delightful, the moment when one of Anne’s better
fiancés gives her son some fatherly advice: “There’s only one
thing you need to know about a woman: They’re never the right
temperature… So what you have to do is carry a sweater or a jacket
with you at all times.” This is true!
But the clichés run thicker than a super-thick paste made out
of clichés. Anne’s main son (there’s another, secondary one,
mostly for background gay silliness) is a Holden
Caulfield–obsessed do-gooder who says things like “As much as my
father’s life relies upon improvisation, my mother’s life is guided by
a large number of aphorisms.” And the philandering improviser says,
“With my life on the road and all, I was never cut out to be a father.”
And the motherly aphorisms include, “Oh, never, never look in
the rearview mirror, darling. It makes no difference what’s behind you”
(in reference to a literal rearview mirror, I might add). And then
you’re like, “Really, dialogue?!” and go back to just looking at
the cute dresses.
I’ve somehow never gotten Renee Zellweger. I don’t consider her attractive, and her acting is nothing special. I’ll never really understand why she was plucked from the hordes of the obscure to become one of the leading lights of moviedom.
this is the first time i’ve noticed that you sound kind of mean, Lindy.
@1 I totally agree. It’s weird that she’s been A-list for quite a while. But you do have to give props for Chicago. Her Roxy Heart was a total surprise and pretty entertaining.
Renee Zellweger was plucked from the hordes of the obscure because she got FAT for that one role.(By fat I mean normal-sized)Such bravery! After those movies she dieted back to hollywood standard pencil-size. She was better looking when so bravely fat. Bravely being normal-sized is part of what is making Lindy mean.
Exactly @3, she was preety good in both Chicago and Cold Mountain. I also like that she’s not a typical Hollywood beauty. She’s got an unusual face.
she is a complete no-talent coke whore.
she is a complete no-talent coke whore.
dont forget that unbrave-not-fat-unusual-face also drove her old almost-a-rockstar boyfriend to suicide as well. It was a long time ago down in a dusty roach-infested little corner of hell somewhere in Texas – a grrrrreat place to be cokn and an ever better place to get mean. I like that her face is sort of cute but also unusual, though. That and for the fact that she could probably play a pretty mean Cindi Lauper if she wanted.
@4: It IS kind of amazing how lovelier she looked as Bridget Jones. I think a boney figure just doesn’t suit her round, puckered face.
Your writing is suffering, Lindy. You aren’t as funny when you think you’re so damn funny. And enough with the hipsterish turns of phrases.
Go back to your self-loathing roots, be humbled, and gives us your clever, *concise* insights.
The review may have sounded harsh, but she’s not far wrong. This movie is terrible! I usually like stuff like this (quaint/quirky, period piece, nice costumes, etc.), but it’s so shallow and unreal. It makes bad 80’s TV look deep.