There is a moment in Confessions of a Shopaholic where it actually reaches for greatness. It is when inveterate spender Becky Bloomwood — coached by her boss and eventual love interest Luke Brandon — questions a CEO about why he awarded himself large bonuses when his company was going under and the stockholders were losing out.
You think, hey, this movie might actually be going somewhere. Maybe we’re finally going to get some answers about corporate greed, financial near-collapse and a ruthless indictment of the corresponding bailout.
Instead, after a few moments of bluster, the CEO deflects Becky with the greatest of ease (these guys are slippery, you know), and we’re back in the comfort zone of a rom-com with a decidedly less ambitious agenda on its mind.
Trying to tweeze any searing truths from a movie titled Confessions of a Shopaholic is like searching for meaning in “Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey,” so what, exactly, was I expecting? If I was looking for ruthless indictments of anything I was obviously sitting in the wrong cinema chair. If, however, you’re looking for a lighthearted, competently crafted entertainment that delivers more than its fair share of laughs and might even pluck a few heartstrings, Shopaholic is exactly your bag of luxe goods.
Becky Bloomwood, played by Borat’s real-life wife, Isla Fisher, is the shopaholic in question. The childlike redhead, who was such a scene-stealer in Wedding Crashers, can’t pass by a window display without the mannequins coming to creepy life and urging her to buy something, so you know she has a serious problem. Her uncontrolled spending has maxed out all 12 of her credit cards and mired her in $9,000-plus-change of debt, so the recently downsized Becky needs some income, and fast.
As a fashionista whose sense of color seems to be hopped up on acid and steroids, Becky has always dreamed of working at Alette magazine (the cinematic equivalent of Vogue), headed by the dreadfully chic Alette Naylor (the requisite Anna Wintour stand-in played by the always-wonderful Kristin Scott Thomas). But Alette is at the top of the ladder of the Dantay West group of publications and they only hire in-house, so Becky has to start somewhere near the bottom, interviewing for a job at, ironically enough, Successful Saving magazine. (As Dantay West’s gay receptionist slyly tells Becky, “Once you’re in, you’re in.”)
Confessions is basically a cross between The Devil Wears Prada and Bridget Jones’ Diary, and it follows in their lucrative tradition of chick lit bestseller-turned-chick flick goldmine. Except in this case, two books from Sophie Kinsella’s bestselling “Shopaholic” series — Confessions and Shopaholic takes Manhattan — have been folded into one screenplay.
Fisher is even decked out in outfits by Patricia Field, the styling genius behind Devil and Sex and the City. But likeable as she may be, Fisher has not quite achieved the fashion-icon status of a Sarah Jessica Parker, and therefore for most of the movie the couture seems to be wearing her rather than the other way around.
Australian director PJ Hogan, who was critically acclaimed for Muriel’s Wedding then promptly went Hollywood with My Best Friend’s Wedding, seems to be content in rom-com land, and maybe that’s a blessing, considering we need more romantic comedies that are actually funny.
One memorable scene involves the two words guaranteed to send a thrill charging through any woman’s heart: “sample sale.” Like honor among thieves, you find there are unwritten commandments to be followed at a sample sale: 1) You are supposed to queue in ladylike fashion to get into the invariably small entrance, but once another door is opened it’s every woman for herself; 2) Putting an item down means you’re not interested; 3) Taking your hands off the said item means you’re really not interested and had better back away fast, or risk getting clawed to death.
Ultimately, you don’t look to a movie like Confessions of a Shopaholic for hard-hitting analyses on the global economic crisis; you go to a movie like Confessions to get away from it.
Out doing — what else? — some shopping for an outfit for Luke, Becky realizes he is rather more well-versed in designer fashions than she had realized and asks him, “You speak Prada?” To that hopeful question the unfortunate answer is yes, Becky, I’m afraid we all do.
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Confessions of a Shopaholic opens today in theaters nationwide.