A weakly directed stroke of genius
Intentions are not enough. Those of writer-directors Abby Kohn and Marc Silverstein and American stand-up comedian Amy Schumer could be potable, also very strategic, but their newest mainstream comedy "I Feel Pretty" moves through so many common places and ways of the genre by addressing its teaching purposes that it ends up revolving in circles, getting stuck and losing any minimal apex of transforming effect or connection with the audience.
Golden Globe-nominated Amy Schumer commenced in the world of cinema with preferably American comedy TV series that served her as a leisurely catapult to fame, a huge recognition called "Saturday Night Live." Some years later, her best role came to life, a character that illuminated her career again, this time away from the small screen, it was her third incursion in Hollywood film, a big one. Many recognize her either by the magnificent and sincere rom-com directed by Judd Apatow and written by the same actress "Trainwreck —" a flick that brought to the forefront the potential and suggestive inventiveness of this girl from Manhattan for comedy writing, — or by the cold, ineffable professional decline with films as Jonathan Levine's "Snatched" or slammed stand-up specials as "Amy Schumer: The Leather Special" for the streaming service Netflix. At this point, many agree that the meteoric deterioration corresponds to an incorrect selection of audiovisual projects, as the actress/scriptwriter knows how to shine by means of truly personal roles and ideas, with which she can relate and understand. For this reason, it was thought that her latest movie, even written by two other screenwriters, would be the perfect alibi to return to the public to utter an important and personalized message about self-assurance, female empowerment and body acceptance by a film enough clever and wittily different to defend that a funny and capable female cast can pull movies off with social and moral purpose; disappointingly, this is an exception.
Schumer imbues Renee with the malice, affability and magnetism necessary to weave a solid link between the story, the character and the audience, leading to this mini-universe get a light code of congruence, that is, the characters and their actions aren't foreign or inserted thanks to, besides the ever-correct comedy queen, the "different" background of male leading role portrayed by actor Rory Scovel, as well as the supporting cast that provides almost acceptable performances, especially Michelle Williams, What are you doing there?
The big problem doesn't lie in the actors, resides in a much more perverse place: the script. The starting point for the film is more than suggestive, even a little advantageous considering the heated gender panorama today in the industry, though, without an excessively deep analysis, it's concluded that this was the reason that motivated mostly STX Entertainment and the two production companies to set up, as quickly as possible, a film of such caliber with a lady of broad social influence on the front page, since her beginnings as an actress, she's been a fervent defender for women's rights, reflecting her thoughts in most of the roles she creates, where the girl must find who she's and what makes her special. The screenplay, written by the same directors who can show off an almost-laudable experience in the romantic-comedy genre, is satisfied to present the points required to run a surprisingly overlong typical rom-com, however, it's appreciable that the story does its best to not get stuck in the midst of such a genre, because of, from the opening scene, its main motive is to clarify the dilemma and, therefore, the confusing message on acceptance that bombards valuable criticism to "beauty" companies. Trying to deal with the unstoppable clichés cascade, the film throws away big opportunities, used as unexciting expositions while eventually, approximately in the endless third act, the situation worsens as it's perceptible how the screenwriters strive to give a clear, accurate and supposedly bold resolution to the leitmotif, speeches and motivational talks with too many women in the crowd are no longer enough for a real impact. There's a weak pathos and, bluntly, the essence of the film is so distorted and stretched that the powerful debate that could have provoked vanishes into the hot and fun matinee air. It becomes excessively long and narratively slow because the writers choose to wrap up any minimal poorly developed sub-plot — Yes, we speak to you Emily Ratajkowski and Michelle Williams, — a harmful and unsubstantiated decision.
It'd not be an Amy Schumer film without her characteristic visual gags, which, by the way, have a hilarious scope, however, the true comicalness is in the premise itself, the thruster of the story is so inherently comical that thousands of better-exploited situations would have reacted if the "love interest" had been extracted from the formula, but even so, at the expense of the undeniable power of the offering, every moment gets a pre-established air of jocularity, unconcern, and wisecrack; the first hour is an intermittent laugh-out-loud enjoyment that beyond becoming the greatest feminine movie teaching (feat) of 2018, managing to be an enjoyable film, which bases its strengths in a glamorous comedian again.
"I Feel Pretty" by Abby Kohn and Marc Silverstein mislays its raison d'être halfway through and confuses its crucial purposes, but in reward, proposes a feel-good pastime mainly by the undeniable charisma of the leading lady and the absurdly hilarious core story. This is neither her new "Trainwreck" nor the feature film that will redirect the high rate of men and women who have low self-esteem because of an increasingly facile and indolent society, as it squanders the powerful messages that could have produced. Leastwise, we're not in front of a flashy cinematographic hodgepodge, this is a disoriented film that never looked itself in the mirror to know what its main strengths were, it understands how to use just a few, others are practically nonexistent.