And here are some of the first reviews. It sounds very good:
Claire Danes delivers some of her best work in years. (4/5)
SCREENED AT THE 2005 TORONTO FILM FESTIVAL: Based on the popular novella by leading man Steve Martin, "Shopgirl" is a light yet mature (and somewhat pensive) romantic comedy that, I suppose, would best be described as "L.A. Story" meets "Lost in Translation." It's a mellow and mature tale of May-December romance, and the film's to be commended for treating the young hottie / older man romantic conventions with a lot more gravity than one might expect.
When you see a rich older man walking with a pretty young thing on his arm, your first reaction is generally pretty predictable:
She's with him because he's very wealthy and protective. He's with her because she's young, firm, and sexy, thereby giving the fella a chance to reclaim some of his youth through the power of sex.
But the main characters in Anand Tucker's Shopgirl are not exactly the shallow opportunists that you'd normally roll your eyeballs at; the young woman has the opportunity to date a guy her own age ... but she likes the older chap for a variety of reasons. And this rich and distinguished "older man" is not even remotely in it for the sex alone. Indeed, the guy has a raging inability to connect with women on a romantic level.
So there's actually a lot of unpredictable insight to be found in Steve Martin's screenplay, which results in a droll, dry and generally satisfying delivery of unexpected romance, understated humor, and knowing swipes at the human condition.
Plus it's got Jason Schwartzman as a goofball who yearns for just a bit more maturity, so that he can woo the sort of gal who spends time on the arm of a late-middle-aged millionaire. Funny stuff.
Shopgirl is neither an indictment of nor an apology for the "trophy girlfriend" syndrome. As a matter of fact, the flick brings to light several warm and wistful insights into why older guys crave younger gals -- and it's not just for the sex, regardless of how obvious that reason may seem.
As department store glove-seller Mirabelle Buttersfield, Claire Danes delivers some of her best work in years; probably the best of her career. As Ray Porter, Steve Martin, seemingly a little bit inspired by the recent work of colleague Bill Murray, underplays his role perfectly as he creates a rich, classy guy who just wants some companionship -- even if he seems physically unable to fall in love. And Schwartzman's supporting turn as Mirabelle's more "age appropriate" suitor, Jeremy, brings a satisfying dose of offbeat humor and arcane warmth to the proceedings. Love Shopgirl or hate it, there's little denying that the three leads are at the top of their game here.
Familiar on the surface yet boasting some mellow and serene surprises throughout, "Shopgirl" is a classy, quiet, and entirely enjoyable look at one particular strain of modern romance -- and it might just inspire you to think a little bit differently the next time you see a 60-year-old guy holding hands with a 30-year-old cutie
This review isn't AS good but still good stuff about CLaire's performance:
--> Danes hasn't been this good since her "My So-Called Life". (2/4)
Believe it or not, it's more taxing to watch Anand Tucker's Shopgirl than to read the Steve Martin novella on which it's based. As in his Hilary and Jackie, Tucker seems to be striving for something lyrical but winds up with something purple, submerging as he does nearly every scene in a syrupy score whilst failing to consolidate redundant emotional gestures. Consequently, Shopgirl is like Lost in Translation on steroids, with Martin's middle-aged lothario Ray Porter temporarily filling the void in the life of Mirabelle Buttersfield (Claire Danes), a culturally-displaced ethereal beauty several years his junior. All three leads--Jason Schwartzman plays a young bohemian, Jeremy, whose courtship of Mirabelle grinds to a halt once Ray enters the picture--do fine, idiosyncratic work (
Danes hasn't been this good since her "My So-Called Life" heyday, though I could've done without the distracting po-mo glimpse of that show's DVD box set), but where the stark prose of Martin's book made the most of Mirabelle's depressive state ("[Jeremy] never complicates a desire by overthinking it, unlike Mirabelle, who spins a cocoon around an idea until it is immobile," Martin writes) and rendered palatable the characters' improbable relationships, an objective interpretation of the story, particularly one as overcooked as this, throws its essential hollowness into sharp relief. Still, Tucker has a fixation with Danes' feet that at least indicates a directorial presence, something Martin vehicles have lacked for too long.
by Bill Chambers