Confessions of a Shopaholic (2009)

Now that Oscar season is over, I can breathe a sigh of relief. Light, fluffy chick flicks can be enjoyed without the nagging feeling that there’s something *important* we should be seeing instead. But be careful what you wish for.

I’ve been talking up Muriel’s Wedding (1994) lately, as it was the now-classic first hit for United States of Tara’s Toni Collette. It was directed by P.J. Hogan. So I had high hopes for Hogan's latest work starring Isla Fisher (that’s EYE-la, Sacha Baron Cohen’s baby mama, amusing ditz in The Wedding Crashers (2005), and maybe love interest in Definitely, Maybe (2008)) with a host of stars in supporting roles. Two girlfriends responded to my emailed invitation to join me at the matinee. Jody said she had found it "painful," but Sally is a fan of author Sophie Kinsella and we made plans to go. Alas, Sally’s work intervened so I stayed home. Mary Ellen texted me from the movie, where she had expected to meet me, and then sent the imdb link, adding, “great cast!” I went alone the following week, in a theatre with 2 other women alone, one pair of women, and a 40-something guy in a shirt and tie. I didn't need tylenol but understood why Jody had reacted the way she did because this movie could not decide what to be and ended up a mishmash. It was 1. cartoon/slapstick (the best parts); 2. a fairy tale love story; 3. a cautionary tale about addiction & hitting bottom & FINALLY crawling back up (the additional addiction to lying and omitting wasn't addressed til nearly the end); 4. a fashion chick flick (but in carnival colors--like Happy Go Lucky); 5. with dead moments to look at your watch or text a friend; 6. and many notable cameos--Wendy Malick! Kristin Scott Thomas! John Lithgow! John Goodman! Joan Cusack! It will always be compared to The Devil Wears Prada (2008) because of 4, but instead of the mean boss she has a monkey on her back of uncontrollable shopping, credit card debt, and the collections agency. And there's no makeover sequence. Of course, Amy Winehouse's song "Rehab" was used, once with her vocals, once instrumental. And there was some good jazz.

I saw this weeks ago and had forgotten the post was still in the draft stage. Post-Oscar laziness has set in plus I took a vacation with family who do not share this obsession. I have three more movies to blog about, not including the three I plan to see this weekend. Stay tuned.