the new "pride & prejudice" is getting some seriously good reviews. salon gives it a glowing one (3 pages worth! lordy!). which reminds me, the last time i caught a salon movie review was the totally effing hysterically bad one for "shop girl." you really should read it just for entertainment value (fave para: "Martin's performance is one of implacable, rubberized unhappiness; you get the feeling he saw Bill Murray in "Lost in Translation" and thought, "I can do that." He can't, though. Is Ray a damaged divorcé who falls in love with Mirabelle, after his own fashion, but can't express his feelings? I guess that's the idea, but you can't really tell. He could also be planning to add her to his collection of chopped-up girlfriends beneath the pool. He could be a narcoleptic. He could be the reanimated corpse of Richard Nixon, nervously sweating embalming fluid. He could be shot so full of Botox it's a wonder he can speak at all."). oh, and also this paragraph: "There's so little sexual chemistry between the actors in this film that it seems like a kind of accomplishment. I've seen shows on C-SPAN that were hotter than this. There's an early scene with Danes and Schwartzman in bed that's no worse than mildly embarrassing, but I sat through the film in queasy terror, awaiting the moment when the Nixon zombie might doff his clothes, expose his burnt-sienna flesh and make sweet, sweet love to his little mademoiselle."

i've since seen "shopgirl," and it really wasn't that bad - certainly less grating than i found the book, for sure. however, it suffers from two unbearably terrible aspects: the screaming symphonic repetitive score that plays each and every single time there's a scene with a hint of lovelorn emotion in it (which is, obviously, like every five minutes, and i'm not kidding - the music is BAD); and the bizarre narration of steve martin at certain points in the movie. dude simply cannot narrate. he sounds like he's reading a children's book to a group of, um, mentally disabled children - reading bits so slowly, loudly and painstakingly so that we REALLY GET THAT MIRABELLE IS EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE AT THIS CRITICAL MOMENT.

i think the movie would have been actually pretty good if martin had simply gotten rid of the score and the narration and let the subtext of those particular scenes speak for themselves at the moment. but, he didn't. at least he has claire danes to salvage the entire thing for him, and though i do like her, i feel like she's pretty much always playing the character from "my so-called life." but it's still a good performance, and i'd recommend the film for a rental.