The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (***)

James Thurber is said not to have been impressed with the 1947 version adaptation of his 1939 short story, which starred Danny Kaye. But then, the story itself is barely 2000 words in which Mitty fantasizes about being a flying ace, a brilliant surgeon, and a Navy Commander, all the while running errands with a bossy wife. It ends with Mitty facing an (imaginary) firing squad. Hardly enough plot for a short, let alone a feature. Kaye was well suited to playing Mitty, a “loveable henpecked dreamer,” as the ads for the movie put it, whereas Ben Stiller has usually brought a nervous quality to his characters. He is not a natural choice for the part then, but as the producer and director he had the luxury of casting himself. The screenplay is by Steve Conrad, who has managed to pen among the more creditable movies to feature Will Smith (The Pursuit of Happyness) and Nicholas Cage (The Weather Man).

Stiller gives a less-showy-than-usual performance in a character that is somewhat underwritten. The story is what most stands out. With Mitty re-created as a bachelor working for Life magazine in the computer-dating age, the only thing tying it to Thurber is the fantasy sequences. Oddly, these are the weakest aspect of the movie, clumsily integrated into the story and seemingly there to provide the special effects crew with something to to. In one, Mitty fantasizes about beating up his new boss (Adam Scott) in a mercifully short sequence that looks like an Incredible Hulk outtake. Fortunately, Stiller must have gotten bored with them too, and the second half of the film mostly ditches them as Mitty abandons his milquetoast ways in a quest to find a missing photograph that will adorn the magazine’s last print issue, meanwhile trying to get the courage to ask out a new coworker (Kristin Wiig).

The odyssey that transforms Mitty is not altogether convincing as to what the character would do (though we don’t know much about him), as to what the character could do, or as to cell-phone reception in remote places. But as the film takes a tone somewhere in the haze between fantasy, comedy, and adventure — with a little mystery thrown in — this isn’t too worrisome. Those expecting the movie to be a pure comedy may be disappointed that it isn’t funnier. But those looking for a departure from the loud fare that dominates the holiday season may well find in this a bit of Christmas cheer.

IMDb link

viewed 11/26/13 at Ritz 5 [PFS screening] and posted 11/26/13

The Devil Waters Prada (***1/2)

Fine actors, fine clothes, and a fine script make for an entertainingly comic adaptation of Lauren Weisberger’s bestselling novel about a dowdy girl (Anne Hathaway) who lands a job working for a dragon lady (Meryl Streep) running a New York fashion mag.

In The Usual Suspects, Kevin Spacey says that the devil’s greatest trick was convincing the world he didn’t exist. So maybe the second greatest is getting someone to sell her soul yet think she still has it. Anne Hathaway plays Satan’s would-be victim in this comic adaptation of Lauren Weisberger's bestselling novel. A frumpy would-be writer who almost accidentally lands a job as an assistant to New York fashion magazine editor Miranda Priestley, she becomes a fashion victim in more ways than one. Priestly, who may or may not be based on Weisberger’s former boss, Anna Wintour of Vogue, is played to a monogrammed T by Meryl Streep. She’s not so much nasty as exacting, exhausting, and without time for niceties. Hathaway showed that she could be surprisingly un-adorable in Brokeback Mountain, but here plays, quite capably, what could be a grown-up version of her Princess Diaries character. (Emily Blunt and Stanley Tucci also stand out as her snobbish coworkers.)

The early part of the movie gets some fun digs in at the fashion industry. Yet, given that the film is practically a rag-trade magazine come to life, it also celebrates it. Streep as Priestly delivers up a defense of her trade that may nearly convince you that buying a designer label is performing a public service. The withering looks the fashionistas give Hathaway’s dowdy duds is nearly worth the price of admission. But high-level cattiness is hard to sustain for two hours. The story flags slightly as it becomes about work versus personal life, dueling boyfriends, and becoming the kind of person you once detested. (There’s the devil part.) However, the ending, significantly different from the book, redeems the movie. And another nice thing is that you wind up empathizing with each of the characters, even the one who’s sold her soul knowingly.

IMDb link

viewed at PFS screening; reviewed 6/29/06; posted online and rating revised slightly upward 8/14/13