With all the Oprah love heaped upon the memoir this film is based on, not to mention the fact that it stayed on The New York Times Best Seller list for nearly four straight years, one would expect this film to have something going for it. For me, many film critics, and about half of the general populous, it doesn’t. Fans of the book and Julia Roberts’ films may consider this a splendid tale of one woman’s quest for enlightenment and balance in her life. The rest will probably see Eat Pray Love as a shallow travelogue for the 1%.
Elizabeth Gilbert (Roberts), is a successful and wealthy freelance writer, contributing to magazines and newspapers across the country. Her husband is a boring man though, leaving her dissatisfied with her life. After a heated divorce settlement, and a rebound relationship that doesn’t pan out, Elizabeth uses the advance money from her next book to fund a year-long trip including stops in Italy, India, and Indonesia. Each stop along her trek is designed to guide her towards self-discovery, self-understanding, and ultimately inner peace.
It’s all a very interesting idea but the execution fails miserably. For starters, stories and movies about rich people who are unhappy with their lives going on self-discovery journeys to find purpose and meaning just don’t work anymore. Perhaps it’s a sign of these difficult economic times that we live in. Perhaps I’m just that cynical. Whatever the case may be, not enough work is done to make Roberts’ character likeable in any way. Sure, she’s the focal point of the film, but main characters do not get de facto support from audiences anymore.
Gilbert’s behavior is often times annoying because she lacks any conviction in what she does. She doesn’t even try to work on her marriage; she just leaves the man because he doesn’t want to go to all her book events and swanky parties. She only gets involved with Eastern spirituality because her post-divorce lover tells her how great it is. She doesn’t actually believe in any of it but immerses herself in it because it’s the only thing she can think of doing for the religious/spiritual leg of her journey. It takes a couple of sharp-tongued, tough-willed people to call her on her posturing and fad-hopping. Instead of this being an indictment of this modern trend, it merely spurns her on to her next destination. All this while spending more money than normal people earn in a year, mind you.
There are just two redeeming qualities about this film. First is Javier Bardem- I would easily watch his scenes again. His character has more emotional depth than Gilbert could ever hope to strive for. His genuine pain and loss is such a contrast to Gilbert’s narcissism. This is a character they should make a movie about, not Gilbert. Second, the settings are wonderful. Lots of beautiful locations were scouted for this film and the cinematographer captures their beauty quite well.
One solid performance and pretty scenery do not a winner make. Maybe the book is better than the film. I certainly hope that is the case because I don’t think I could stand to read about Elizabeth Gilbert’s life if she really was as whiny and self-indulgent as Eat Pray Love suggests. I can only envision a narrow target audience for this film if you really know what it’s about. Thanks to trailers and studio advertising, this film looks much more interesting and fulfilling in a two-minute series of clips than its agonizing two-hour plus run time. If nothing else, this film will make you feel better about yourself when you realize it takes less time, money and whining than Elizabeth Gilbert suggests to ‘find yourself.’
I realize that chick flicks are notoriously unrealistic and sugar-coated, but my brain hurt for days over the ridiculous premise of this one. Julia Roberts plays a superstar actress fed up with all the paparazzi swarming her. She’s making a film in and around Notting Hill, in the West end of London, which is where Hugh Grant (playing the same daff everyman he almost always plays). Grant accidentally runs into Roberts on the street covering her with his beverage and he lets her clean up at his apartment (which is conveniently nearby) so she doesn’t have to deal with fans and cameras.
Somehow, Grant’s ordinariness makes Roberts fall madly in love with him and she shoves her tongue down his throat.
I feel that this is all I need to say about how pointless and nonsensical this film becomes. But, I’ll go on. Besides white-washing London’s west end (in reality a very ethnically diverse area) and my personal biases against Julia Roberts’ face (I swear, she looks like a horse), the film is, for the mot part fairly typical chick-flick fare. There’s a stereotypical wacky roommate (who is actually good for a few laughs), foreseeable conflict and foreseeable resolution. It’s pretty basic and up to par for paint-by-numbers cinema, except for the fact that the whole darn thing depends upon such an outlandish hookup.
It could have worked, because a movie star falling in love with a normal person is plausible and I’m sure it’s been done before. Something got very screwed up in the execution of this film though.
