Review of “Venus,” “Factory Girl” and “Music and Lyrics”

How and why the personalities of some film actors generally jump off the screen in an endearing manner is not subject to empirical study. It just is.

The new romantic comedy, Music and Lyrics, features two contemporary players blessed with such professional luck. Drew Barrymore and Hugh Grant.

Given the type of flick this is, the bottom line, as always when love is in the air on-screen, is whether the cinematic romancers connect in some visceral and palpably humorous way? The $64 question: How do Grant and Barrymore connect?

Very well, thank you very much. (If you need an example of when it doesn’t work with superstars, rent The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas, in which Dolly Parton and Burt Reynolds have less than zero chemistry.)

This film is a confection, sweet, easily digested, but without any lasting sustenance. Which is just fine, because piffle is all it aspires to. The time is now and over-the-hill musician Grant is to an 80’s pop group called Pop! as Andrew Ridgeley is in real life to Wham!

Music and Lyrics is worth seeing if only for the faux MTV video of Pop! which plays over the titles at the beginning and end. It’s dead on.

Grant’s character has taken to playing high school reunions and minor amusement parks to small gaggles of screaming soccer moms trying to relive former times. Grant does his charming little sexy dances and takes home meager pay checks. He’s acclimated to the lifestyle.

Into his life comes Barrymore, a ditz who moonlights as a plant keeper. She has the facility to write lyrics. So they get together professionally which — surprise — leads to romance. They write a song for Britneyesque Cora, played to perfection by Haley Bennett, who has a Madison Square Garden gig where she shakes her booty for Buddha.

Grant and Barrymore fall in love. Their fifteen year age difference is of no consequence.

The movie is a pleasant grin, which is a lot more than can be said of a lot similar fare.

* * * * *

It was with some trepidation that I walked into the theater to see Peter O’Toole as an aging dirty old man in Venus. Would the character cause chills to run up the spine? Would it touch too close to home?

Let’s simply say that O’Toole is a master. His award nominations for this movie are legit. His interactions with fellow old farts, Leslie Phillips and Richard Griffiths, are pinpoint accurate. They are played with truth and affection. Which is heavenly for those of us guys on the cusp of dotage.

O’Toole is an aging Lothario who desires that one last fling. He hooks up with Jodie Whitaker, the pissy twentysomething niece of his pal. She tools him along, but is taken by his attention. He knows there is nothing to lose so he never falters in his quest for one more tryst before he moves on. It is charming and only moderately creepy to watch how their relationship plays out.

Vanessa Redgrave is her usual stalwart self as his ex-wife whom he left years before for a leading lady in one of his movies. She forgives him for his wandering demeanor and lack of sustained intimacy. So I guess should we.

Bottom line is that Peter O’Toole is a consummate actor. Don’t be surprised if he beats Forest Whitaker come Oscar night. This portrayal of a Lothario past his prime is that good.

* * * * *

Factory Girl is the riches to rags story of Edie Sedgwick, the it girl of the Andy Warhol scene. There’s nothing new to the story. Beautiful underachiever strives for fame, attains it for the requisite fifteen minutes, then overdoses after flirting with sobriety.

What makes this film worth seeing is the performance of Sienna Miller as Edie. The role is fraught with peril. Many actors have fallen into the many traps of playing such gal on a downward arc.

Not Miller, who maintains a sense of being and humanity and avoids the maudlin

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