In Contention

Tag: Running With Scissors

  • Jill Clayburgh (1944-2010)

    It’s odd to think that younger readers may principally recognize Jill Clayburgh, the New York City-born actress who passed away yesterday after a long battle with leukemia, from her Emmy-nominated role in TV’s “Nip/Tuck” — where she played Bobbi Broderick, a vengeful victim of unsuccessful liposuction, done in the hope of securing a job ahead of younger, thinner rivals.

    It was a sharp, upsetting performance, all the more haunting because it was easy to imagine Bobbi as the soured middle-aged self of Erica Benton, the unaffected, sexually liberated divorcée she played, to career-making effect, in Paul Mazursky’s 1978 romantic dramedy “An Unmarried Woman.”

    The film is rarely spoken of today, but Clayburgh’s immense performance, balancing sweetly goofy comedy with stabs of untempered pain and anger, was something of a feminist touchstone for the depiction of “real” women in American cinema — she won Best Actress at Cannes for her efforts, and was nominated for an Oscar that unwisely went to Jane Fonda instead.

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  • Can we ‘Eat’ yet?

    For a major star vehicle, directed by the current ruler of prime-time television, that is only four days away from release, shouldn’t the profile of “Eat Pray Love” be a little higher right now? I admit I’m on the wrong side of the Atlantic; perhaps American streets, magazines and airwaves are flooded with promotional material for Ryan Murphy’s adaptation of  Elizabeth Gilbert’s chick-lit smash. But the film’s online presence seems decidedly muted, while reviews of any sort have yet to appear. What gives?

    Usually, when critics are kept from seeing or writing about a film until this late in the game, it’s because the product smells decidedly iffy. But that’s hardly the case with “Eat Pray Love”: the source material has a devoted following, the talent involved is top-flight, and the trailer was attractive and thoroughly ingratiating.

    As I made clear in a Page to Screen column recently, I detested Gilbert’s fussy, solipsistic memoir, yet the trailer’s promise of airy romance, luscious scenery and Julia Roberts at her most personable had me pegging the film as one of this summer’s most inviting; if it could win me round, the book’s legions of fans should practically be queuing at the theaters already.

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