Friday, February 16, 2007

I Didn't Wanna Love Hugh Grant, But Then Pop! Goes My Heart...

I am a perpetually single gal whose birthday happens to fall two days before Valentine's Day, so that candy-coated holiday is a pretty uneventful affair for me. Still, it's a shame to let the day pass without a bit of celebration, so when my friend Libbie and I first saw a preview for Music and Lyrics, the romantic comedy written and directed by Marc Lawrence that opened on February 14, we began hatching a plan to toast the day with what looked to be an innocuous little film whose writing-oriented premise might just provide us with a bit of inspiration. As we trudged through the snowy parking lot of the movie theater yesterday in the aftermath of the blizzard that kept us home on opening night, she reminded me, "I usually don't care much about Hugh Grant or Drew Barrymore. But I'm really excited about this movie!" As an aspiring songwriter who is fond of both actors, especially the former, I shared her enthusiasm, and within minutes of the film's beginning, she'd changed her tune about the illustrious Mr. Grant...

As washed-up pop star Alex Fletcher, Grant is atypically well-composed, not bumbling and clumsy as he so often is, yet not strung-out or insufferably hot on himself either, as one might expect from a former teen idol. No, Alex is perfectly affable, self-effacing and gentlemanly, with a gentle wit always at the ready. He's a bit pathetic, perhaps, eking out a living by wearing very tight pants and risking fractures while replicating his trademark hip thrusts for squealing housewives at amusement parks and class reunions, but he does have enough self-respect to draw the line at participating in the ill-conceived Battle of the 80s Has-Beens, featuring boxing matches between fading rockers who topped the charts two decades ago. But with a little help from his long-suffering manager Chris Riley (a low-key Brad Garrett), he scores a dream job that could completely revitalize his career: the assignment to write a hit song for tween pop sensation Cora Cormann (newcomer Haley Bennett) by the weekend. There are just two problems with this: Alex hasn't composed a song in twenty years, and he's never written lyrics at all. What's a poor has-been to do?

The seemingly perfect solution falls into Alex's lap when, during a disastrous writing session with emo, elitist lyricist Greg Antonsky (Jason Antoon), he overhears some impromptu versification from Sophie Fisher (Barrymore), the flighty woman filling in for his regular plant caretaker. The idea of hiring someone to water his paltry assemblage of vegetation is rendered even sillier by her utter ineptitude, from spacing out and drowning some plants to watering others despite the fact that they are plastic and fleeing in search of a Band-Aid when she pricks her finger on a cactus. Luckily, she is a much better writer than gardener, though she insists that she has no special talents in that area and resists Alex's earnest entreaties to assist him with his song-writing endeavor.

Having seen the commercials, I knew she'd come around before too long, but this awkward shuffle toward the beginning charmed me. As an aspiring lyricist myself, I will probably spend the rest of the year daydreaming about a disarmingly gorgeous and talented Brit scooping me out of obscurity with one serendipitous offer of partnership. Sophie is rendered all more lovable by her self-doubt, which plagues her throughout the course of the film, though at times its presence proves an almost insurmountable obstacle. Nonetheless, there is real magic in the way the poetic phrases roll off her tongue in an unguarded moment, just as instantly hummable melodies flow from Alex's fingertips.

While Music and Lyrics provided plenty of laughs, it's much more a romance than a comedy. The bulk of the humor involves making fun of the eighties, of the atrocious styles and over-the-top pop sensibilities, and most of all of aging teenie-boppers who delight in acting as though they were frozen in time, however ridiculous that might make them look. I can't decide whether it must have been flattering or humiliating for Grant to get up on stage time and again in pants that would make David Bowie blush, shaking his groove thing, swinging those hips and praying not to sprain anything. Given Grant's professed dislike of acting, my suspicions would lead me to believe the latter, but he looks like he's having such fun up there...

And I shouldn't find it surprising that such a dreamboat would possess a voice that could melt butter. Okay, I'm probably overstating things, but I never heard Grant sing before, and he has a wonderfully warm, expressive voice with a tender tone that is complemented especially beautifully by his character's emotive piano playing. Barrymore's voice is nice, too, the one time we hear it, and so is Bennett's when she isn't turning her songs into a sitar-drenched striptease. I found her character to present an interesting dichotomy. On the one hand, she's a gorgeous young woman compelled to outdo Shakira for seductiveness with each sultry dance and skimpy outfit, and the extravagance of her entourage seems to scream diva, but in face-to-face interactions she is calm, centered, taking a very Zen approach to life and treating those around her with great respect and consideration. Her behavior in the climactic concert scenes is especially telling.

Barrymore and Grant's chemistry is terrific, their romance sweet and touching as Sophie and Alex build up one another's confidence, helping each other to see how gifted they truly are. Their courtship is otherwise so chaste and tasteful, I rather wish the hook-up scene, which is pretty much a given in modern-day film romances, could have been left out. Why can't a little smooching be enough for these moviemakers? Still, in all other respects - aside, perhaps, from Cora's eye-popping displays, which would be well suited to a Victoria's Secret ad - Music and Lyrics hardly earns its PG-13 rating, with no profanity that I recall and precious little crudeness, most of it deriving from the inappropriate attentions of menopausal women, especially Sophie's sister Rhonda (Kristen Johnston), toward Alex.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing about the film, however, is the music. I'm actually tempted to go out and buy this soundtrack, which has indeed brought me a fresh wave of songwriting inspiration. Kudos to Adam Schlesinger for contributing a series of endearing and commercially viable pop gems, from A Way Back Into Love, the affecting song Alex and Sophie co-write, whose melodious musical phrases trickle through the score, enhancing the mood at opportune times, to the bubblegum hit Dance With Me Tonight, which is a centerpiece of one of the film's funniest and most touching scenes.

Nothing, however, can compare with the brilliance that is Pop! Goes My Heart, the catchiest movie tune since That Thing You Do!. The first two and a half minutes of the movie are taken up by its music video, a relentless barrage of eighties references from the fluffy hair, frilly shirts and exuberant choreography to the overblown backing beat, melodramatic midsection and dizzying black-and-white checkered background. By the third repetition of the chorus - "I said I wasn't gonna lose my head, but then Pop! goes my heart (pop goes my heart) / I wasn't gonna fall in love again, but then Pop! goes my heart (pop goes my heart)..." - Libbie and I were chiming in, and the film obligingly offered two more opportunities for increased familiarity with the song, so that by the time we got back to my house, we could think of nothing but securing the video and embedding it in our MySpace pages for all the world to see. A quick trip to YouTube quickly sated our desire, and over the course of the evening we must have watched the video a dozen times. Yes, it's that good. If this baby doesn't get a nod for Best Song when next year's Oscar nominations roll around, I shall be very put out.

Music and Lyrics is one of the most satisfying films I've seen recently, so whether or not it helps me to write a hit pop song, I count it as a most edifying movie-watching experience. And I think Libbie might just have to agree with me when I say that Hugh Grant is music to my ears.

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