Even if every other person in North America wasn't worried to death over money and job security at the moment, Confessions of a Shopaholic would be a preposterous movie.
The story of a young female clothes horse with a credit card that burns through her pocket seems to take place in the New York that sitcom characters live in, where everybody's got a spacious, presumably rent-controlled apartment, and lovable bosses create great-paying magazine column-writing jobs for you out of thin air just because they like your spunk.
There are other strikes against Confessions of a Shopaholic, including the fact that the heroine of Sophie Kinsella's chicklit series has been transformed from a Brit to an American (played by an Australian).
The good news is that Isla Fisher, whose natural comic gifts are only now being appreciated, is adept at swimming in a sea of preposterousness.
With an unselfconscious aplomb only hinted at in movies such as Wedding Crashers, Fisher lays claim to that Hollywood archetype known as the "ditz," morphing into a flibbertigibbet-wrecking-ball in a frantic comedy that generally manages to paper over its flaws through sheer breathelessness.
As we meet Shopaholic's title character, Rebecca Bloomwood, she is deep in a hell of her own making, $16,000 in credit card debt and being pursued by a collector (Robert Stanton) with the pitbull dedication of Les Miz's Inspector Javert -- and still she keeps buying cute scarves on Fifth Avenue.
Her chief enabler is her best friend Suze (Krysten Ritter), who lets her stay for free at the parent-owned apartment they share.
Rebecca's well thought-out solution to her problems is to, by sheer force of will, land a dream job at a Vogue-like fashion magazine, run by a French editrix, played by Kristen Scott Thomas (she's back!). For pop-culture enthusiasts, Confessions is a veritable game of actress catch-up, from Thomas to Christine Ebersole to Airplane's Julie Hagarty to Lynn Redgrave (ignominiously cast as "Drunken lady at ball.")
Of course, improbable rom-com fate robs "Becks" of her dream job and lands her one she's ironically unqualified for, a "home finances" advice column in a business mag published in the same office building.
This, courtesy of charming editor Luke (Hugh Dancy) who misinterprets Rebecca's at-sea panic for infectious enthusiasm.
Thus does Confessions become an all-sides panic-attack of a comedy, with Becky dodging the bill collector, her absolute cluelessness about anything to do with business, and her own hypocrisy as she becomes a media celebrity.
There's also the occasional stop at an Overspenders' Anonymous therapy group, which becomes key to the slapdash last act.
There are some real funny moments when Fisher is left to her own devices, set-pieces like a face-slapping/fan-dancing tango she has with Luke on a business trip, and a "remnants sale"-turned-riot where she proves herself willing to flop around and straddle people if need be to get a laugh, a la Carol Burnett or -- dare I say it? -- Lucille Ball.
Other than Ritter, no supporting player really gets a chance to shine, and Confessions of a Shopaholic is no one's movie but Fisher's.
But the chance to watch a comic talent work it is one reason to see it.
(This film is rated PG)
More Movie Reviews
