Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Metropolitan



This talky plot-lite comedy of manners earns forgiveness for its own hyper-referentiality to the class-conscious, manners-bound Jane Austen novels (where issues of good taste and its boundaries are only barely superceded by interests of love and authentic human connection) because it fits the genre so surprisingly and winningly. I'm always delighted and distressed by the way that Stillman forecloses (or does he just mitigate...?) the complexities of idealism meeting pragmatic barriers by opting for the pleasures of human connection.

++++