She's All That (1999)

reviewed by
Alex Fung


SHE'S ALL THAT (Miramax - 1999) Cast: Freddie Prinze Jr., Rachael Leigh Cook, Matthew Lillard, Paul Walker, Jodi Lyn O'Keefe Screenplay by R. Lee Fleming Jr. Produced by Peter Abrams, Robert L. Levy and Richard N. Gladstein Directed by Robert Iscove Running time: 91 minutes

Note: Some may consider portions of the following text to be spoilers. Be forewarned.

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The recent trend emerging from studio films arriving on the marketplace -- the repackaging of familiar, proven story material in a teen-friendly context -- is indicative of the degree to which this lucrative demographic is coveted. Amy Heckerling's contemporary revision of Jane Austen's "Emma" provided one of 1995's most clever and buoyant pictures in the unexpected hit CLUELESS, and the recent Robert Rodriguez film THE FACULTY is simply a mishmash of THE INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS, THE THING, and teenagers, but in the imminent future, the trickle of teen updates to date becomes a river: on the horizon include such fare as CRUEL INTENTIONS ("Les Liaisons Dangereuses" plus Buffy), TEN THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU ("The Taming Of The Shrew" in high school), and the U.S. release of STRIKE! (spunky teen starlets meet "Lysistrata", to woeful effect).

Yet another example of teen-oriented revisionism run rampant is the relentlessly conventional SHE'S ALL THAT, re-teaming THE HOUSE OF YES castmates Freddie Prinze Jr. and Rachael Leigh Cook in an update of the Pygmalion tale squarely aimed at the teen crowd. Put to film most memorably in MY FAIR LADY, this formula is hardly unpredictable -- man aims to transform "ugly duckling" to princess, with unexpected peripheral effects -- but what's disappointing here is the lack of any sort of effective fresh spin; after transplanting the fable into a trendy Southern California milieu, R. Lee Fleming Jr.'s screenplay slips into auto-pilot.

That's especially crippling in this picture, far moreso than the scoffable inability of horn-rimmed glasses, a bad wig, a paint-splattered ensemble, and a tendency of tumbling to the ground to mask Ms. Cook's appeal while in wallflower mode -- after all, similar efforts to render the radiant Audrey Hepburn as gawky were also spectacularly unsuccessful. It's crucial that a tale with such an obvious preordained conclusion should sustain interest along its familiar route, yet every twist and turn in the tedious plot unfolds like clockwork while punchlines and comic gags thud with unforgivable regularity. Although the film ramps up a notch during its final half-hour, it's mostly due to the performances of its leads that the picture broaches tolerability.

A few necessary amendments have been implemented onto the formula in order to make the story more palatable to contemporary attitudes. Today's audiences would have be challenged to find empathy for the passive, demure heroines which populate these tales; consequently, frumpy social outcast Laney (Cook) is no shrinking violet: she's much tougher, sharper and more self-assured -- not only does she refuse to swoon at the sudden attention from hotshot Zack (Prinze Jr.), she outright rejects his advances and freely fires acid zingers in his direction. Far from being a reclamation project, the picture takes on the perspective that she's the film's strongest and most complete character from the outset. (Of course, she's imbued with requisite vulnerability -- her unremitting seriousness and angry art indicate her loss of youthful vigor and buried grief upon her mom's death. And there is the matter of that wonderfully tacky falafel hat she gets to wear at her part-time job.)

Otherwise, there's a numbing lack of innovation evident in this film. Racking up the clichis, the typical centerpiece makeover scene makes its inevitable appearance, with the "not improved, just different" Laney descending down the staircase accompanied by a sweet love song on the background as Zack gapes upwards agog (though I liked that the filmmakers undercut the moment with some humour). It should be noted that Zack's moment of epiphany is a curious variant -- a time-honoured staple of these sorts of pictures is the magical reaction shot of the guy finally recognizing the beauty buried beneath the glasses and the bad hair; it's usually a fleeting moment which occurs when she removes her ungainly spectacles, but it occurs here when Laney slips out of her overalls to reveal her swimsuit-clad figure.

While it may be futile to point out logical faults in what's essentially a contemporary fairytale, the film is so rife with holes that it would be overly charitable to neglect them altogether. Zack is depicted as such a sensitive, kind-hearted soul that his initial pairing with such a cartoonishly one-dimensional villainess as Taylor (Jodi Lyn O'Keefe) defies credibility (save, that is, for her physical attributes). Frankly, he's such a flat-out nice guy that it becomes difficult to swallow someone so thoroughly genial could rocket up the cutthroat high school social ladder to the point where he lords over the student body, enforcing law and order with nary a bit of intimidation and having the soccer team at his beck and call.

These are minor quibbles relative to Laney's behavioural inconsistency, leaping from incredulous (and warranted) suspicion of Zack's advances to reluctant acceptance of his courtship with little cohesion bridging the two positions. (It feels like scenes are missing.) And the velocity of perennial outcast Laney's acceptance into the In Crowd should give hope for social misfits everywhere.

While the picture's focus is largely upon the budding romance between our class-mismatched couple, it indulges in occasional comic diversions (most of which crash and burn) and some brief flights of fancy, catapulting fully into the realm of full-fledged fantasy at the prom, where the seniors break out into an extended choreographed dance sequence. It's a moment that's both energetic and fun to watch.

Although SHE'S ALL THAT's plodding consistent vision is smartly softened by the genuine sincerity and affection with which it treats its love story, the roster of caricatures which serve as supporting characters is a drawback. Among the peripheral players, which include a reunion of THE MIGHTY's Elden Henson and Kieran Culkin (as part of Laney's Outcast Brigade) and Anna Paquin (who turns in a bizarre interpretation of a teenager), only rubber-faced Matthew Lillard makes much of an impression as the comically narcissistic Brock. (Not only does he sport a tattoo of himself on his bicep, it's also labelled "Me", lest any confusion arise.) Brock's the sort of character who, on stage, would carry around a mirror to gaze adoringly at himself; appropriately, in the film he'd rather approvingly ogle his televised visage than cuddle with Taylor.

The film's strength undoubtedly lies with the screen presence of its charismatic leads. Mr. Prinze Jr. gives an easygoing, affable performance; his wide, disarming smile suggests that the hurtful cruelty inherent in the plot will be dulled. Meanwhile, Ms. Cook continues to demonstrate her adeptness in front of the camera, navigating both her character's sullen and softer sides with ease. (She, along with Monica Keena, were the only bright spots in STRIKE!) Although her tiny, delicate frame and photogenic face is obscured by garish clothing and unsightly accessories for half the movie (and her first scene calls on her to hock up a loogie, natch), she's an instantly charming performer. They deserved a better movie than this.

           [ ** (out of four stars) | Alternate Rating: C- ]
          - Alex Fung, January 31, 1999
          email: aw220@freenet.carleton.ca
          web  : http://www.ncf.carleton.ca/~aw220/

-- Alex Fung (aw220@freenet.carleton.ca) | http://www.ncf.carleton.ca/~aw220/ "Somebody asked me what I learned from Michael Bay. And I said, 'nothing.'" - Billy Bob Thornton


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