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12/18/02

1 hr. 45 mins.
Starring: Jennifer Lopez, Ralph Fiennes, Tyler Posey, Marissa Matrone, Natasha Richardson, Stanley Tucci, Bob Hoskins
Directed by: Wayne Wang

Rating: * ½ stars (out of 4 stars)

Everybody and their grandmother are well aware about singer-actress Jennifer Lopez’s highly publicized real-life romance to fellow hotshot performer Ben Affleck. Understandably, J. Lo is on cloud nine and rightly so. Well, the timing couldn’t be better for the ubiquitous artist to star in one of her trademark tepid romance offerings (yeah, it’s the appropriate time to reminisce about her forgettable dud The Wedding Planner). In director Wayne Wang’s (The Joy Luck Club) interminable cutesy romantic comedy Maid in Manhattan, this flaccid flick is one of the most rancid and manipulative films of the year.

Despite its saccharine-coated aura, this insufferable Cinderella-themed farce commits every sloppy crime in Cinema 101. The acting is atrocious thanks to Wang’s numbingly transparent direction. The storytelling is shamelessly predictable and lame. Hence, this reinforces a dispiriting script by Kevin Wade that’s scattershot and cobbled together with middling platitudes. And although this lackluster movie has an interracial flavor to it (a Latino lead actress, a European lead actor, an Asian filmmaker, etc.) somehow there’s a condescending vibe about Maid in Manhattan that feels so indirectly insensitive. Hmmm, a seemingly independent pretty Puerto Rican single mother working as a low paid maid finally gets “rescued” by an affluent dashing Great White Hope politician. If that isn’t somewhat cloying and condescending then I don’t know what is.

Wang’s lightweight narrative awkwardly strives for the polished delivery of a contemporary urban fairy tale. But unfortunately, this pared-down fable simply doesn’t have the energy or freshness to carry out its alleged whimsical charm. This movie has more sugar in its content than a box of Frosted Flakes cereal. One cannot help but not to overlook the triteness that Maid in Manhattan basks in with unexplainable relish. It’s one thing to pawn off this tacky motion picture as a feel-good gem but it’s another thing to knowingly fall for the disposable hype that masquerades as a feel-good gem. Hopefully a majority of moviegoers aren’t as gullible. It’s too bad that Maid in Manhattan plays like a bad concoction of Pretty Woman meets Selena.

Lopez portrays Marisa Ventura, a single mom from the Bronx who works diligently as a maid in one of the ritzy hotels situated in New York City. Marisa has a decent shot at securing a desired top management position at the hotel. In any event, she is a hard worker and devoted mother to her 10 year-old son Ty (Tyler Posey).

Soon, Marisa receives an unexpected wake up call when she’s caught trying on some expensive clothing belonging to another person. The individual who catches Marisa red-handed is none other than handsome specimen Christopher Marshall (Ralph Fiennes), a political upstart with impressive family ties (and ideal family fortune to boot). Christopher has ambitions to run for Congress as a senatorial candidate. Feeling embarrassed by doing something she knows she shouldn’t have done, the red faced Marisa doesn’t own up to her faux pas. Instead, she passes herself off as the owner of the chic clothing thus presenting a false persona as a rich guest. Gee, isn’t this something that Lucy Ricardo would do? We loved Lucy. We hardly tolerate Marisa. Anyway, Marisa’s ill-advised decision to come off as impressively wealthy to the neatly presentable Christopher will eventually take on a snowball effect of full proportions. And of course, her “innocent” deception will lead from one misunderstanding to another therefore compounding what amounts to be a mutual attraction for the blue collar Spanish cleaning cutie and her Anglo-Saxon Prince Charming-in-waiting. Whoopie doo da!!

Obviously this vacuous vehicle raises the typical questions in generic fashion: where will Marisa and Christopher’s connection for one another take them? Can Marisa be accepted in Christopher’s posh and padded world of privilege? What will Christopher do about the scandalous gossip regarding his relationship with a-gasp-common maid that’s finding noticeable fodder in the tabloids? What about his political career that may be jeopardized by the woman that suddenly captured his fancy? And what will Marisa’s employer do when they find out about her charade as a wealthy woman trying to tap into the heart of the suave senator hopeful? Can Marisa hope to escape the drudgery of her working class existence and cement a bond with Christopher that will guarantee an easy life for her and Ty? Last but certainly not least, when will Lopez realize that these unpalatable and myopic romancers that she occasionally appears in have run their course to the point of ad nausea?

Maid in Manhattan is a half-hearted and inconsequential formulaic let down. Wang’s tediously tender tale of minorities looking to find acceptance through assimilation of the majority is borderline offensive. It is quite wincing, if not contradictory, to see Lopez’s Marisa Ventura as a hard-working Hispanic woman toiling as a maid even though it’s an honest living and shows her as being nobody’s needy dependent. Yet by the same token, she finds comfort by shielding her professional identity from a blue-blooded powerful white male she readily craves as her “knight in shining armor”. There have been plenty of social/cultural clash movies that deal with the rigors of lovers from completely different worlds that have been done with effervescent flair. But Wang doesn’t know when to draw a fine line between Lopez’s character’s empowerment and her docile mode. If Marisa is not chastising Christopher's indifference about her as an ethnic working stiff then she’s cherishing her highly touted romantic “white savior” as the source who completes her emotionally (guess it’s convenient that she can excuse the well-spoken Christopher for his lack of understanding regarding her people and profession). Pleeeeeze!!

What’s more crushingly evident is the flaky and patronizing way that the debonair Senator Christopher Marshall parades around the curvy Hispanic hottie Marisa Ventura as if she’s some reclamation project he’s trying to get jump started. When Christopher demonstrates his “tolerance” by taking the overwhelmed Marisa to a political fundraiser, he gets to showcase his exotic-looking ethnic beauty for the approval of his observers. And of course hearts flutter when Christopher’s colleagues check out his dressed-up doll in a glowing gown (quite frankly, it wouldn’t take much to make eyes pop out of their sockets while checking out J. Lo/Marisa’s shapely frame in a darn potato sack!).

The performances in Maid in Manhattan are suspect. As the lead players, Lopez and Fiennes don’t compliment each other that effectively. Their chemistry simply doesn’t register in turgid material that does not support their colorful back-and-forth relationship. Whether they’re acting playing kissy-poo or sounding off at the bickering stage there’s not a convincing shed of evidence that supports the audience rooting for their gradual union. Fiennes, who normally gels as a well-cast heartthrob in a slew of sophisticated period piece dramas, is completely stiff in this callow comedy as the political playboy out to tame him some luscious Latino lamb chop.

The true passion seeps through when Lopez and her big screen offspring Tyler Posey spend some quality mother-son moments together. As for the supporting cast, they merely add another distracting element to the stagy proceedings. Marisa’s colorful gal pal co-workers are supportive and follow her whirlwind romantic movements. Still, they are a comical collection of prototypical stereotypes (particularly the rotund heavy-set black maid in the group that shakes her girth in embarrassing and exasperating mode) meant to compliment the desirable “everyday plain” look of Lopez’s sympathetic protagonist. Both Natasha Richardson and Stanley Tucci channel snooty arrogant types in their roles that neither come off as a distinctive hoot or essential footnote to moving along the clunky plot.

Whatever virtues one may attain from watching the likes of the flavorless Maid in Manhattan, rest assure that this quasi-romantic comedy doesn’t bring any substance to the table in terms of conjuring up an appetizing premise between two so-called magnetic souls from opposite directions. So pick up a dust rag and tidy up your room-you’ll have more of an engaging experience than being subject to this baseless, breezy hokum.