Avoid Confessions of a Shopaholic like a government handout with strings attached. This stinker feels as if was swiped through a credit card machine a zillion times and it’s chiefly the fault of an atrocious script and a lead character (played by someone named Isla Fisher, apparently Borat’s real-life girlfriend, which explains everything) who’s as appealing as a root canal. The dishonest character is utterly irredeemable and Fisher’s bland presence sinks the movie.
Confessions is a rehash of every tart-with-a-heart-of-gold pic in the past five years and this ditz—who’s supposed to be a fashion genius—dresses like a trollop. She looks like a cross between Pebbles on The Flintstones and one of those plain Janes who overdoes every part of her ensemble. My screening companion, Laurie, tells me this stuff is designer-made and highly popular but it still looks like crap to me. Fishnet stockings—chain-link necklaces—a magazine journalist who writes one column and becomes the toast of the town—a bank that actually loans money to a businessman—hair that goes from straight to curly in a millisecond—this movie, which gets a second wind thanks to director P.J. Hogan, desperately trying to create something of quality, is awful. You know you’re in trouble when the bridesmaid’s dress is better than anything else on screen. The talents of Joan Cusack, John Lithgow, and—in the only part that works—Kristin Scott Thomas are wasted. The same goes for poor Hugh Dancy as the love interest. Hogan, a fine director who gave us Universal’s wonderful live action Peter Pan, indie gem Unconditional Love and the irresistible My Best Friend’s Wedding, deserves better. A textbook case of unwarranted above-the-title billing, Confessions of a Shopaholic runs counter to its attempted theme of earning it.
I hear from composer Nile Rodgers that the guitarist who wrote the infectious tunes “Upside Down” and “I’m Coming Out” for Diana Ross is working on new material for the singer (see 26 July 2008 post for her concert review). Mr. Rodgers’ impeccable work has lasted for decades, from his band CHIC’s popular records and “We Are Family” by Sister Sledge through his albums for David Bowie (Let’s Dance), Madonna (Like a Virgin) and Duran Duran. One of my favorite songs is his idealistic “Original Sin” by INXS, which harmoniously blends horns and riffs into an uplifting anthem. I can hardly wait to hear—and dance to—what he makes for Miss Ross.
