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How easy it is to set the stage with a quartet of lonely, beautiful people (yes, Jack, even you; even “Nacho Libre” himself, the hairy half of Tenacious D, manages to pull off the leading guy role here with charisma and charm). Because no matter how rich or how beautiful, Hollywood’s beautiful people are so utterly unlucky in matters of the heart—or, for that matter, even sensible relationship choices. Kinda like in real life, some might say. I pondered skipping this one, having some preconceived notion that “The Holiday” would be just another formulaic, snowand emotion-swept, teary-eyed chick flick trying its damnedest to dredge up that feelgood preChristmas rush—and, okay, I admit that “The Holiday” is indeed all of the above. How many times must we bear witness as these cinematic gods and goddesses (yes, Jack, even you) thrash around in loveless self-pity or in making really bad personal choices before finding true happiness? Okay, okay, maybe one more time. If you’re easily turned off by phrases like “formulaic pap,” “tired cliché” and “chick flick,” you’ve been adequately forewarned. So go away. However, if you’re still reading, I suspect you’ll fall in love with this one. Director Nancy Meyers has a spooky way of taking the obvious, the overdone, the normally insipid and somehow snuggling down to that barebones realistic foundation of what love’s all about—or at least what it should be all about. It’s the dialogue of course (she also wrote the script)—smart and sassy, with those cute little plotline twists and turns that come out of nowhere to tweak your heart, then dart away before you even know what’s hit you. Ever see “The Family Guy” episode where trashtalking Peter gets unwittingly hooked on chick flicks and becomes one big emotional lug? Well, that’s me watching “The Holiday.” Because as much as I hate some pompous critic telling me that I’ll laugh, I’ll cry, that I’ll clutch my loved ones with elation and leave the theater with promises to be kinder and gentler to furry animals and small children—well, that’s what happened. I’m so ashamed. Basically, the film’s about uptight, upscale L.A. relationshipphobe Amanda (Cameron Diaz), who agrees to house-swap with pathetic, love-soured Iris (Kate Winslet), who just happens to own a charming country cottage in England. They accomplish this swap just before Christmas. (And don’t even think about how each managed to arrange holiday travel plans so hitch-free. If you’re into that kind of contemplation, you should have stopped reading three paragraphs ago.) Both Amanda and Iris are seeking to escape men, because we’re cads, all of us—but of course, neither woman manages to do so. Because we’re also just about everywhere. Iris’ brother Graham (Jude Law) intrudes on Amanda, as does Miles (Jack Black) on Iris. Both men are blissfully cad-free and, besides, their names are Graham and Miles. You know they’re sensitive, caring types without digging any deeper. This is also the kind of film where children are amazingly well-behaved—one might say cherubesque—and say things like “Oh, Daddy, Daddy!” with charming British accents that will melt your heart and make you forget that sometimes children stick peas up their noses and require $400 emergency-room visits. It’s also a film with some very nicely placed cameos by other beautiful Hollywood types (and a scene-stealing performance by Hollywood veteran Eli Wallach), and, frankly, if you’re a formulaic, cliché-loving, chick-flick fanatic, you’ll probably find “The Holiday” near the top of the heap. Watching “The Holiday”— forgive me, but I can’t help myself—you’ll laugh, you’ll cry. . . hey, you get the picture. P.S.: Apologies to those of you who, like my wife, are annoyed with my constant use of the phrase “chick flick.” Well, I’m sorry, but it is. What can I say? |
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