Film Reviews

Easy Virtue

• Rating:
• Director: Stephan Elliott
• Starring: Ben Barnes
• Details: UK / 93mins / (12A)

There's nothing easy about sitting through this adaptation of Noel Coward's play, as the filmmakers somehow found a way to make Jessica Biel look unattractive, while also using her famously muscular backdoor for the purpose of killing an annoying dog. Hey, if you're gonna go... Prince Caspian's Ben Barnes is John, a suave quintessential English playboy who was spending time in the south of France sowing his wild oats, when he met and married Biel's brassy American broad. The two elope, then head back to Blighty where they're met by a frosty reception from the in-laws - most notably Scott-Thomas's overbearing mother. First transferred to celluloid in the late '20s by the legendary Alfred Hitchcock, this frolic-ridden affair bears little resemblance to that early effort, as director Elliot veers drastically between tones, then just decides that ending it nonsensically and abruptly is for the best. Biel makes the obligatory costume drama appearance and does her best as the put-upon other half. Barnes, meanwhile, is a charming enough sort, but this is an awful role that he could do little with. We must just be thankful that he's bagging roles now, keeping Orlando Bloom bottom-feeding somewhere away from the Cameron Crowes and Ridley Scotts of this world. Colin Firth offers the most value for money as the irreverent auld lad who doesn't give a shit what happens. He is where most of the laughs come from; and when I say 'most of the laughs', I mean two chuckles that may have been coughs. Elliott hasn't a clue, and you get the impression that the film that resulted wasn't what the actors though they were getting themselves into. This was obviously meant as a showcase for Biel, who flaunts her athletic frame enough to momentarily distract from the banality of it all. I'm giving it an extra half star for Biel's abs, but taking half away for the lousy makeup job they did on her, so it all evens out.

Review by Mike Sheridan