When he finished writing his novella about Ray Porter, Steve Martin was satisfied he'd written something that would never be made into a movie. Now, seven years later, Martin plays Porter in "Shopgirl."
The story follows Mirabelle (Claire Danes), who, having moved from Vermont to Los Angeles, watches the city glitter from behind the glove counter at Saks Fifth Avenue. Her artwork provides little solace in a city that does not acknowledge her existence. That is, until the debonair Ray takes an interest in her. They find something they are looking for in each other, as well as other things they were not. Meanwhile, Jeremy (Jason Schwartzman), who has fixated on Mirabelle, must go on his own journey with a rock band to find his place. The three eventually come together and Mirabelle will have to take ownership of her life she had previously participated in only as an onlooker.
There are several touching parts of the movie. For instance, when we are introduced to Mirabelle, Martin's voiceover explains everyone has something to offer, and like stars in the sky, it just takes one person to notice them. When Ray notices Mirabelle, the question she cannot ask is, "Why me?"
Viewers are conditioned to be uncomfortable with such a large age difference, but dissent at their relationship is founded in something much baser. The film sets up Mirabelle as someone the audience wants to see protected but who also needs to realize her life to its highest destiny. Although Ray's attention and monetary gifts can provide Mirabelle some gratification in her life, there comes a point when she has to make it on her own. Ray will never be able to give Mirabelle what she really needs, and viewers aren't really sure if she's going to find her partner in Jeremy, either. How does one live life if he or she has explored doors one and two, only to discover what's really needed is a door three?
In the interest of closure, Mirabelle re-opens one of the doors and finds happiness. Perhaps viewers wouldn't think much of a movie that leaves its three lovers adrift, but after an entire film of adult love stories (with all of their sordidness and flaws), the wrap-up feels a bit contrived. Trust in the viability of the emotions presented seems to drop out by the end of the film, and viewers are left with something less than the movie promised.
It's nice to see Martin in a role where he doesn't have to shove kids into a minivan, and it may be surprising to some that he can embody such a base character. The real star of the film, however, is Danes. Her complexities are real and viewers sympathize with her because she is not given any easy answers. Her growth is subtle and sincere, and though she seems to have so much to learn at the beginning of the film, somehow she grows by the end. Schwartzman is, of course, the endearing social neophyte, perpetually looking in on the supposed normalcy of everyone else.
Life will always be hidden from the girl behind the glove counter until she goes out in search of it herself, and this is where the sincerity of the movie's devotion to real life comes through most genuinely.
