According to “Confessions of a Shopaholic,” (2009) the handsome Brit may be looking for a young woman who’s a chronic liar, impecunious to a pathological degree and careering unpredictably from airhead to accidental genius. i.e., Rebecca Bloomwood, the character played by Isla Fisher in this film.
Poor Isla. Poor me. Not everyone loves this sort of cute, but exaggeratedly lost city girl and I certainly don’t. I much prefer Fisher’s character April in the wonderful “Definitely, Maybe.” April was a woman – clearly a woman, not a girl – who’s smart, witty, perhaps slightly dangerous, but definitely genuine. Did I say prefer? I love that character. Not Becky Bloomwood, alas.
Becky is a would-be fashion journalist in the middle of a credit meltdown. And so she becomes a finance columnist. Within 10 minutes, I knew I was watching a film beneath even my standards. It’s one filled with incidents that are wholly implausible and yet wholly predictable. And sometimes unnecessary. It goes too far to demonstrate Rebecca’s shopaholic credentials, right down to her propensity to succumb to the enticements of talking mannequins.
It does feature one cliché I like (but only because it means I may be able to build a blog post on it): the imperious older fashion dictatrix, played by Kristin Scott Thomas here. Bottom line: The movie is not awful. It’s just less enjoyable than the average rom com. When the intended couple unites in the end it feels more relief that it's over than romantic catharsis.
Or, to put it in the movie's fashion terms, it's more J.C. Penney's than Alexander McQueen.