Royal rot>> The Other Boleyn Girl is a |
![]() SISTER ACT: Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johansson
by MARK SLUTSKY Not all movies require a white-hot sense of urgency to be worthwhile, but The Other Boleyn Girl is such a gloopy and limply torrid period piece that it just supremely unnecessary. It’s a movie that just makes you wonder why—why anyone made it, or agreed to star in it, or for some unlucky people, spend two hours watching it. The movie’s based on the novel of the same name by Philippa Gregory, which was also made into a TV movie in 2003 with Natascha McElhone. (That version was directed by Philippa Lowthorpe, which means it must have set some sort of record for the number of Philippas working on the same production.) It tells the story, very loosely, of the Boleyn sisters, Mary and Anne, both who were romanced by Henry VIII. Anne would eventually marry the king, become queen, and lose her head after being charged with incest and treason. The Other Boleyn Girl recounts these events in a breathless and florid style. The film stirred a little controversy in Britain when three non-Brits were cast in the main roles. Yanks Scarlett Johansson and Natalie Portman play Mary and Anne, respectively, with Aussie actor Eric Bana as the lustful king. Now I don’t really have a stake in the actors’ nationalities, but if any uproar was warranted, it should have been limited to their performances. As the alternately catty, sweet and pitiful Anne, Portman probably fares the best, but Johansson and Bana barely even seem there at all. Bana in particular gives the impression that he’d rather be somewhere else and he’s trying to open his mouth as little as possible. Johansson is just kind of blank. Even if historical scheming and screwing is your thing, there’s not much here. The Boleyn family’s plans, as concocted by the sisters’ evil uncle, the Duke of Norfolk (David Morrissey) are barely interesting, and the sex scenes are beyond tasteful; they’re practically prudish in this day and age. But what ultimately unravels this movie is that none of the relationships it depends on—the love story between Johansson and Bana, the fraught sibling politics—ever seem worth caring about. It’s less a romantic epic than a dull and inaccurate history lesson. The Other Boleyn Girl opens |
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