Boasting an acrid, career-best star
turn from Cate Blanchett, Woody Allen's Blue Jasmine is
perfect late summer counter-programming for the discerning film goer;
a cynically witted character study that proposes it's not the
tragedies and crises (be they self-imposed or fateful) that define
our lives, but our ability to put the past behind us and move on.
Jasmine (Blanchett) used to thrive on
the vain luxury of her Manhattan high life. Constantly indulged by
her wealthy businessman husband (Alec Baldwin), she blissfully turned
a blind eye to his crooked dealings and extramarital affairs. We are
reminded of this part of her life via frequent flashbacks, but
presently, all the extravagant dining and dancing and diamonds and
drinks have completely vanished from Jasmine's world. Well, except
for the drinks.
Her husband having been nailed by the FBI for all his corporate theft, Jasmine is now penniless and leaning on the charity of her adopted sister Ginger (Sally Hawkins) living in San Francisco. After years of hosting socialites from her ivory tower, middle class life on the coast proves an inhospitable adjustment for Jasmine. She doesn't get along with Ginger's boyfriend Chili (Bobby Cannavale), is disgusted by her employment situation, must beat off the advances of men who she considers leagues below her, and suffers regular anxiety attacks. It's apparent from the very start of the film that this riches-to-rags trauma has done a number on her psyche.
While a star-studded cast and the
quality of the writing are usually the major draws for a Woody Allen
picture (and they certainly shine in this one), Blue Jasmine
is Cate Blanchett's show to dominate. Her Jasmine is a mesmerizing creation: A
brittle, vodka-guzzling, pill-popping, nervous wreck who recites the
same vapid parlour talk over and over to herself in a delusional
attempt to hang on to her former life. Blanchett's haughty elocution
fits the character like a glove, whether she's disingenuously putting
on airs for her moneyed friends or clumsily stomping on the other
half with her backhanded comments. We can't help but watched
transfixed as she crashes and burns.
The screenplay's dual timeline format
helps draw the dramatic contrast between Jasmine's New York dream
life and her San Francisco nightmare. The sometimes messy subplot
involving Ginger's tryst with a cuddlier suitor than Chili (a fun bit
part played by Louis C.K.) draws some focus from Jasmine's story, and
may feel to some viewers like it would be more at home in one of
Woody's ensemble pieces à
la Hannah and her Sisters or Crimes and Misdemeanors.
What it draws attention to, however, is a moral standard by which we
can compare Jasmine's decisions. Both Jasmine and Ginger are capable
of dishonesty, but it's the ability to repent, reconcile, and move on
that measures their strength of character... or lack thereof.
So-called “losers” Ginger and Chili can still be happy after all
the crap that life puts them through, but Jasmine is doomed to keep
swallowing Xanax and muttering to herself in public.
***1/2 out of ****
