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Just perfect...

Highly Overrated But Still Good

All of these films share one commonality, that being a kind of emotional center that humanizes a cast of monsters.

I didn’t really have many expectations going into the movie (good or bad), but I actually really enjoyed it. I really liked the characters and the banter between them.

Any serious reader knows that the book is usually better than the film. It is the rare exception that even holds its own. Rarer still are the films that are on par or better than the book. Shopgirl is one of these. There are a couple reasons why I think this is so. One, Steve Martin. The genius behind the writing for both the novella and the screenplay. Since he wrote both, the two are actually very similar. Steve Martin plays Ray Porter, the older love interest for conservative, somewhat innocent Mirabelle. (The response she provides when her bold and vindictive co-worker tries giving her tips on how to use men really says it all: "I am from Vermont.") He perfectly plays the awkward older man that truly does not want to hurt the younger beautiful girl, but he is wise only in the ways of courting and treating a girl in materialistic ways. When it comes to matters of the heart, he is as lost as a needle in a haystack. He also does a few voice-overs in the film, all direct quotes from the book. Here are some of my favorites, the ones that best exemplify Martin's impressive understanding of both the female psyche and the dynamics of relationships. "A woman needs to be held, even if it is with someone she does not care about. Protective hormones are released, and the amount of hormones released depends on the degree to which she is held. The first and best is the complete surround. He wraps you in both arms, whispers how beautiful you are. Second best is the 'arm around.' He is next to you but with one arm around you. The third is he's next to you on his elbow, but he rests his hand on your stomach and looks at you. Fourth is you snuggling up to him with your head on his chest, while he looks away into space. But when the first best happens, you feel completely, wonderfully like a woman." "Mirabelle Buttersfield moved from Vermont hoping to begin her life. And now she is stranded in the vast openness of Los Angeles. She keeps working to make connections, but the pile of near misses is starting to overwhelm her. What Mirabelle needs is an omniscient voice to illuminate and spotlight her and to inform everyone that this one has value, this one standing behind the counter in the glove department and to find her counterpart and bring him to her." Mirabelle: Are we going in? Jeremy Kraft: Go in? Oh, no. I just thought we'd look at it. Mirabelle: So. . .we would just sit here, then? Jeremy Kraft: Yeah, or walk around. This place is called City Walk. It got eight out of ten in my date book. It's not called "City-Go- and-See-a-Movie". Tickets are, like, ten bucks too, so. "Some nights alone he thinks of her, and some nights alone she thinks of him. Some nights these thoughts occur at the same moment and Ray and Mirabelle are connected without ever knowing it." "How is it possible, he thinks, to miss a woman whom he kept at a distance so that when she was gone he would not miss her. Only then does he realize that wanting part of her and not all of her had hurt them both." Two, Claire Danes. I have never really been awed by her in her more famous roles. Perhaps that was the problem, though. She does best in subtle roles. In an understated way, she brings magic to the character and her story. Three, the visual representation was a great medium to convey the striking contrast between Ray Porter's rich lifestyle and the careless, scattered, unrefined circumstances Jeremy Kraft chooses. Pair these with the world Mirabelle Butterfield inhabits, which is somewhere between the two, and we have the basis of the story. Roger Ebert has written a review that echoed my thoughts almost entirely, so to minimize redundancy, here are what I deem to be our thoughts: https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/shopgirl-2005 I am not a huge fan of Jason Schwartzman, but here he was not as excessive as he usually is, doing well as a loser of a guy not well versed in the ways of treating a girl who eventually learns the error of his ways (during a road trip with a band while he listens to self-help audio books) and redeems himself with his girl. With Steve Martin's soothing voice-overs, the gorgeous shots of Los Angeles, a few hilarious awkward scenes balancing the more serious and sentimental ones, the overhead shots where the camera floats above Mirabelle's apartment and then drifts inside, there was a playful and whimsical feel to the film, even mystical at times. I am sure most viewers were not as impressed by this film as I was because they wanted more to happen. Unfortunately for them for missing out- but fortunately for Steve Martin and me- we know that less is often more.

Mirabelle Buttersfield (Claire Danes) is a lonely girl from small town Vermont working at the glove counter in L.A. Saks and heavily in student debt. She meets flighty artistic Jeremy (Jason Schwartzman) at the laundromat. Ray Porter (Steve Martin) is a rich older gentleman. He buys a pair of gloves from Mirabelle and gifts them to her. They begin a relationship but they don't necessarily see their fling the same way. Lisa Cramer (Bridgette Wilson-Sampras) is the gold-digging perfume girl.It's a pretty little movie. Danes is such a lovely girl. The visual look is neatly beautiful. If there is any deficiency, the guys are not worthy of Danes. Schwartzman is playing his man-child character. Martin is too old and too distant. As a romance, it's hard to root for either of them to end up with Danes. In fact, I would rather that she walks off into the sunset on her own.

Unusually sweet movie about lonely people adrift in LA. Also a proof that a "romantic" comedy does not have to be yet another boring chick- flick. Mirabelle is a girl working at the gloves counter of a department store. She does not have much to do, since gloves are not much in demand. In her spare time she draws, Edward Hopper's style. At the laundry, she meets James, a young aimless slob. They have an awkward date. The evening is somehow spoiled by their lack of social and emotional intelligence than by lack of connection.Then Mirabelle starts to be "courted" by Ray, an elderly, rich gentleman, equally unable to connect emotionally, but very much skilled in old-fashioned gallantry. The two embark in a sexual relationship which in Ray's mind will never turn into "commitment".Although Mirabelle enjoys the obvious perks of dating a rich, kind man, she starts longing for emotional fulfillment. In the meantime James leaves LA to be a roadie of some sort and while travelling with a rock band, he gets some self-help books about relationships. When James comes back to town, sort of matured by his experience, the Mirabelle/Ray relation has reached stalemate. Reluctant to give up on Ray, Mirabelle fells into a depression, probably triggered by her unspoken needs. Eventually Ray breaks it off, setting in motion a more assertive Mirabelle, who finally decides to quit her boring job.The two meet some time after the break-up. Mirabelle is working in an art gallery showing some of her work. She and James are now happily together, while Ray is visiting the exhibition with another "girlfriend" of some sort. Mirabelle and Ray have a short private conversation during which he admits of having loved her, but that does not matter anymore to Mirabelle.I really enjoyed the simple storyline and the interpretation of the three main characters.

A sublimely tedious film! sit back and p*ss away two hours of your life staring deep into Steve Martin's Navel. The last and worst of the noughties movies about randy middle-aged men getting off with young cute young girls(American Beauty, Lost in Translation). But whereas the former can occasionally ascend to the state of bittersweet farce and the latter eventually becomes a meditation on the dislocations and absurdities of its backdrop setting, this movie never takes a step outside the small island nation of Steve Martin's ego. All this would make the film boring. But what makes it really gut wrenchingly awful is the directors crow-barred insertion of really loud and melodramatic music. I think the director thought she was Jean-Luc Godard. Please, please don't waste your time with this film!