casanova05

“Straight” from his stint Mountin’ the Brokeback, comes Heath Ledger as the World’s Biggest Man-
Whore. Liza mentioned how interesting it was that both stars of the gay cowboy movie had films
released almost simultaneously where they played overly heterosexual characters. Jake
Gyllenhaal, of course, starred in “Jarhead” and now Ledger comes out with this period piece where
donning a white powdered wig, wearing knee high pants, sporting lace sleeves and sword fighting is
the ultimate display of masculine behavior.

Unfortunately, director Lasse Hallstrom doesn’t quite deliver the home runs that he did with his
previous projects, “Chocolat” and “An Unfinished Life.” Instead, we are treated to a film that
reminds me very much of lemon meringue pie; sweet, sometimes tart, and ultimately fluffy.

It’s 1753 in Venice, the most decadent city on the planet and our hero Casanova is very busy
making a name for himself by giving every nun in town a reason to scream, ”Oh God!’ He’s very
close to being executed by the Inquisition for debauchery when the Doge steps in and grants him
clemency under one condition: he must get married. So now the city’s most famed powdered player
must find a virtuous wife and settle down. Oh heaven! What ever is he to do?

Well, I’ll save you the ticket price. He goes around looking for a proper fiancé only to find himself
infatuated by the most forward thinking girl in Venice who hates everything Casanova represents.
So he embarks on a scheme to win her away from her own betrothed by assuming a bunch of
different identities and lying a lot all the while avoiding the authorities who want to hang him.

This film and all its characters are rather bumbling and the supposedly suave Casanova comes off
looking more like a chump as Ledger floats and plots through the story. It is mildly entertaining and
often humorous, but things really don’t pick up until the arrival of the great Oliver Platt, playing the
corpulent husband-to-be of Casanova’s new found obsession. Platt all but carries the movie on his
talented shoulders and often saves it from becoming a film with little more substance than a tea-
soaked lace doily.

But not even Platt can save the film from its incredibly sloppy and sappy ending, where the awkward
handling of the plot deteriorates into a pseudo-action comedy buffet bar of semi-heroics and
cheesy posturing.

Add all of this to a film that caters to a female audience and in so doing, exposes their most
frustrating quality of duplicity. Every woman in the theatre is sighing and gasping for a fantasy man
who is nothing more than a scheming philanderer. A man who, if they were to meet him in real life,
would be viewed as a complete pig.

Go figure.