Grave ‘Miss-take’!

Amy Adams forgets to check her Broadway baggage at the door

Teghan Beaudette, volunteer staff

Touted as a light-hearted romantic comedy, this breed of film rarely prompts great expectations, but it couldn’t have been predicted what a colossal waste of money and time this movie would prove to be for its producers, actors, directors and crew, never mind the audience.

Amy Adams plays Delysia Lafosse, a young and beautiful aspiring actress who has her sights fixed on a life in the lap of luxury. Frances McDormand is Miss Guinevere Pettigrew, a frumpy, judicious woman who is fired from her job during wartime in London. Miss Pettigrew finds herself homeless; out of desperation she shows up on Delysia’s doorstep, posing as a social secretary for Delysia. As it turns out, Delysia is in a bit of a pickle, as she has one man naked in bed and another in the car outside on his way up to the flat (that he owns). It sounds like an interesting plot setup. It’s not.

The lead performances are forgettable. Although the role of the pretty, but fairly talentless, young actress seems to suit Adams, she botches it. Adams portrays Delysia as a virtually “unrelateable,” over-the-top, exceedingly annoying, morally bankrupt spoiled brat. Her face is constantly contorting into highly exaggerated smiles, frowns and her specialty “I’m confused!” eyebrow crumple. Adams’ hands nervously twitter around her face, which is frequently distracting. In our introduction to the painfully annoying character, Adams seems particularly concerned that we will not believe she’s a young, daft, loose-moral socialite. She strains her voice and face so desperately to convey a message that has already been impressed upon the audience by the ritzy apartment setting and the step-by-step plot progression.

The film is redundant and predictable, with the only noteworthy performance coming from Shirley Henderson as Edythe Dubarry — an opportunistic young friend of Delysia whose engagement to a wealthy lingerie designer has recently been broken off. Her self-assurance and presence on-camera is refreshing amongst actors and actresses who can’t seem to find their footing, attempting to portray individuals who lived but a few generations before they did.

Edythe’s voice (whether put-on or real) is a high-pitched cross between a child and a chipmunk. It is both amusing and delightful to hear her make threats, accusations and exude pseudo-confidence. The best scenes in the film are those in which she has a chance to speak; the sole star awarded to this film belongs to her exclusively.

A particularly memorable moment in a completely forgettable film is a scene between Delysia, Miss Pettigrew and Edythe. Edythe attempts to convince Miss Pettigrew to use her persuasive powers to win Edythe’s husband back. She attempts to relate to Miss Pettigrew by drawing a comparison between themselves and Delysia. Edythe implies their lack of natural beauty requires some additional talent in order to achieve their goals. The statement is particularly fitting, not only within the context of the film, but it’s relevant to the unfortunate casting decisions. Shirley Henderson should have been cast as Delysia Lafosse, as she might have rendered the film watchable, even enjoyable.