Broken English (2007)
Broken English has two things going for it that most “I’m thirtyish, female, MARRY ME!” films don’t: a refreshingly vulnerable Parker Posey performance (though Parker Posey at all would generally be an advantage) and a firm, rare grasp of the panic that can set in when when you’re a certain age and realize that you’re nowhere near where you want to be in life. The film, unlike many women’s chronicles in this age of Sex and the City, is not a glib cartoon, and I respect writer-director Zoe Cassavetes’ conviction in the material.
The material is still pretty shopworn though. Our heroine, Nora Wilder (Posey), bounces back and forth predictably from parent to friend to the occassionally always wrong for her guy, in search of whatever makes her her, and for some sort of comfort that her life is edging towards something other than another hangover. An early passage with Justin Theroux as a vain actor hints at the edgy romantic comedy that may have been, unfortunately though, Cassavetes is more interested in pairing Wilder with a less interesting female fantasy: the younger, untethered Frenchman, Julien (Melvin Poupaud).
At this point Broken English becomes just as banal as the films its trying to transcend. The unusual seriousness of the picture, which I respected in the beginning, ultimately only makes the cliches that much more of a slog. It’s a shame too, because Parker Posey gives one of her least stylized performances here, she’s quite beautiful in her exposure. I hope she tries that again in a more ambitious film.
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