Being 40 or older isn't fatal, Linda Evans assured Clairol customers in the 1980s. Thirty-odd years later, the age bracket seems to have picked up the reputation of being a youth annex rather than a middle-age anteroom. Of course, it helps when one is proud, confident even.
Shirley Valentine (Pauline Collins), 42, lives a life that could be considered tragedy-free. She's alive, with adult children and a husband, Joe (Bernard Hill). He used to love her because she was a nutcase. Now he just thinks she is a nutcase. Friends have (and will) come in and out of Shirley's life. Her deepest conversations are monologues given to the kitchen wall.
It could be considered a tragedy-free life, if it wasn't so damned depressing. Shirley's quick enough with her wit, but one gets the impression she lives by the principle of expressing any other emotion before daring to acknowledge her overwhelming sadness. Collins, aided by Willy Russell's screenplay and Lewis Gilbert's direction, gives a heartbreaking, touching performance.
"Shirley, every year, millions of millions of people go on holiday. And every year, those same millions of millions of people have such a good time that they don't want to go back."
"Yeah, but just suppose ..."
"... and that's all there is to it." (Jane starts ordering lunch)
"Yeah. ... Yeah. Because we don't do what we want to do, do we? Really, what we have to do we pretend we want to do. And what I want to do is stay here and be Shirley Valentine. And what I have to do is go back and be Saint Joan of the Kitchen Sink."
Many critics felt Russell made a mistake in adapting his play. They felt that transforming a one-woman show into a fully-cast, occasionally romantic comedy only exposed the writing's weakness. I disagree. I think it strengthened the reality of Shirley's situation, to show her interactions with the likes of Joe, Jane (Alison Steadman), Marjorie (Joanna Lumley) and Costas (Tom Conti).
Is this a story that's been told before? Yes, but Shirley Valentine has a few things in its favor. There's Collins' performance, which I can't say enough good things about. There's the photography of Greece, making the far side of paradise look warm and inviting. And the fact that this is a love story with a twist. Woman gets man, but she also gets girl. If Shirley had ended up with Costas, I'd be shaking my head at the idea of her hooking up with a guy she's doesn't know that well, even if she can mostly read him like a book.
"You kissed my stretch marks!"
"Don't, don't be too stupid to try to hide these lines. They, they are lovely, because they are part of you, and you are lovely, so don't, don't hide, be proud. Sure. These marks show that, that you are alive, that you survive. Don't try to hide these lines. They are the marks of life."
"Aren't men full of shit?"
Recommended.
Thoughts:
-- Box Office: Grossing just over $6 million on an unknown budget, this came in at No. 106 for 1989.
-- Critic's Corner: Joe Brown of the Washington Post liked Collins, pointing out her "tangily skeptical tone and a wry 'prove it' look" which countered Russell's writing. Roger Ebert wasn't surprised Conti played Costas: "No self-respecting Greek actor would want this role, which is cobbled together out of every Hellenic Lover cliche of the last several decades." Caryn James, New York Times, did feel Collins gave a fine performance. "(She) brings to the film all the poignant, true emotion that Mr. Russell's endless aphorisms try to capture and totally fail to convey."
-- Awards Watch: Collins and "The Girl Who Used to Be Me," written by Marvin Hamlisch and Alan & Marilyn Bergman, were both also-rans at the Oscars and Golden Globes. Collins, who won the Olivier and Tony for playing Shirley on stage, also picked up a BAFTA. The film itself lost at the BAFTAs and Golden Globes.
-- Castmember Connections: Not only are Collins and Conti good friends, they'd also acted together before. They starred in the West End production of Romantic Comedy.
-- Today in Oversharing: Jane's refusal to have milk in her tea due to the trauma of catching her ex-husband in bed with the milkman earned a recognition nod. My dad and now-stepmom once didn't even bother to hide their affection while eating the salad at Olive Garden. Mom hasn't had a crouton since.
-- I wonder if Dougie and Jeanette ever talk to the tiles in their bathroom. Of course, they might have to shout over the Jacuzzi motor. Their play would be very short or would disappoint the audience.
-- This Weekend: Kickboxer
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