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PLOT: Two rich dim-witted party-girl heiresses find themselves trying to cope with ordinary lives after a scandal leaves their late father's company insolvent.
Jamie Foxx refers to Hollywood success as the ultimate creativity killer, a glitter-drug that causes suddenly-rich comedians to "lose touch" and tell jokes about their new Mercedes like they expect the average person to care.
The tween-girl-idol version of same would be Material Girls, in which Hilary Duff and her older sister Haylie star as rich "celebutantes" on the L.A. party scene. The movie -- in which they end up losing all their possessions and credit cards after their late father's company suffers a scandal -- is fashioned after the Paris & Nicole series The Simple Life. But there's no doubt the paparazzi-bait lifestyle depicted here speaks to Hilary's real life better than Lizzie McGuire did.
But really, who wants to see Hilary mince about in teeny steps the way rich girls only do in the movies, and complain about having to get on a bus and stand next to poor people? On that level, this is probably Hilary Duff's worst career mistake.
Admittedly, I know more about the lives of North Koreans than I do about tween girls. But at the screening I was at, the Dolce & Gabbana jokes elicited cricket sounds. Some left early.
(I should mention that Material Girls is not in very wide release. If you want to see it, you may have trouble finding, as they say, "a theatre near you").
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Hilary and Haylie play Tanzie and Ava Marchetta, heiresses to a mega-million dollar cosmetics empire who live for nightclubs and their platinum cards (and Ava for her TV star fiance). Their friends are phony and gay (now there's a message for middle America). Although for her part, Tanzie has a secret desire to enroll at UCLA and a crush on a parking valet.
Not exactly up to running their late father's company, Tanzie and Ava are softened up by their odious trustee (Brent Spiner) to sell to dad's hated enemy (Angelica Huston, whose character might as well have been named Donatella Versace).
Then the roof caves in. A TV expose links Marchetta creams to facial disfigurement. Suddenly, they're friendless and their cards are cut off. The only people who give them the time of day are poor schnooks like the valet and their former maid (Maria Conchita Alonso).
Yes, it's another movie in which us poor folks are better (like the pro bono lawyer, played by Lucas Haas, who Ava falls for). All they need to make them presentable, really, is money.
The fact is, neither Hilary nor Haylie have any flair for subtle comedy. Hilary does have a proven talent for slapstick, but director Martha Coolidge doesn't really know what to do with it (a scene where they accidentally start a housefire is particularly ineptly shot)
All in all, Hilary's "growing up" process remains an awkward work in progress.
Bottom line: Hilary Duff's worst career mistake and least sympathetic performance. She and her sister essentially play the Hilton sisters, minus the skanky ho factor. Trouble is, the L.A. party life she portrays too closely mirrors hers too, with strained Dolce & Gabbana jokes and nightclub in-patter that skews too old for her core tween audience.
(This film is rated PG)