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Going Shopping

2004, Movie, NR, 106 mins

GOING SHOPPING
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More cheerful misogyny from writer-director Henry Jaglom who, after dealing so sensitively with the subjects of women and their obsessions with food and their ticking biological clocks in EATING (1990) and BABYFEVER (1994), now tackles the subject of women and their obsession with shopping. Jaglom's personal and professional partner Victoria Foyt once again takes the center of a very crowded stage, this time starring as Holly G (the G actually stands for Gilmore, although all those stills and posters from BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S are Jaglom's idea of character explication), a shrill clothing designer whose day is ruined when she finds out that her beloved L.A. boutique is about to become a house of sand and fog. Unbeknownst to her, Holly's lover/business manager Adam (Bruce Davison) hasn't paid the rent for her shop in three months, and unless Holly comes up with the $40,000 in back rent by Monday morning, she and her collection of overpriced knits will be out on the street. Holly's flaky mother, Winnie (Lee Grant, hammy as ever), is no help whatsoever, so in a panic, Holly moves her daughter, Coco (Mae Whitman), and all their things out of Adam's house and into the shop and kicks her Mother's Day sale into high gear. She also turns to Winnie's mobbed-up boyfriend (Joseph Feury) for help, knowing that he has ties to people who lend other people money; but that solution will only result in Holly owing money to people who'll do more than just evict her if she can't pay up. Just when things couldn't get any worse, a bright spot of sorts appears on Holly's horizon. She meets Miles (Rob Morrow), an unemployed but unpretentious loser with little to offer other than two days' worth of stubble, puppy-dog eyes and a shrew of a girlfriend (Jennifer Grant), but who might be exactly what Holly's needs — or, at least, deserves. There's one thing to be said for Jaglom: He continues to make movies in the face of critical brickbats and audience indifference, and he's lost none of his power to insult. As he's done in the past, Jaglom alternates largely improvised scenes with monologues from women who discourse on shopping, admitting that their identities are intimately bound up in what they buy. Some even admit that shopping can make them feel terrible about themselves, but they seem powerless to do anything about it. Women, it seems, are simply shallow masochists; or maybe that only applies to the kind of women who find themselves within Jaglom's circle. leave a comment --Ken Fox
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