Bottom-feeder

>> Woman on Top is precious nonsense

by MARK SLUTSKY

Venezuelan-born director Fina Torres' new movie, Woman on Top, is perhaps the most egregious example of that peculiar genre of film that ought to be called, for lack of a better term, faux-foreign. In other words, movies set in some exotic locale, full of contrived charm and starring a non-American actor who the studios figure can cross over into the Hollywood market.

Of course, the characters all speak English, and there's never anything really "foreign" about these movies beyond the glossy, colourful surface.

Woman on Top stars the lovely and talented Spanish actor Penelope Cruz, who's usually quite good. Here, idiotically, she's asked to act entirely in English, a language she's clearly not too familiar with. Cruz plays Isabella, a "magically" talented cook who leaves her philandering husband (Murilo Benicio) in Brazil to start afresh in San Francisco, with the help of her loveable transvestite chum Monica (Harold Perrineau Jr. of TV's Oz). Isabella has soon charmed all of San Francisco into a poorly acted stupor, becoming a local star with her cooking show, Passion Food (!). Soon the husband is back in the picture, travelling to San Francisco with his band in an attempt to woo Cruz back.

At any given point, Woman on Top is one of three things: nauseating, tedious, or both. It's actually difficult to express in words how unbelievably tiresome this movie is. All of the U.S.-friendly foreign film clichés are here: long discourses on the sensuality of food, dime-store magical realism (watch those flowers pop up when Cruz walks by!), endearingly exotic religious beliefs. The movie's so precious, so obviously delighted by its paint-by-numbers quirkiness, it's actually embarrassing to watch. It's so feel-goody pseudo-spiritual one suspects Oprah's involvement on some level.

Infuriating flourishes aside, Woman on Top doesn't even attempt to make sense as a movie. It's kind of told as an adult fairy tale, which basically translates into a complete disregard for such details as plot. There are too many implausibilities to even list here and the movie's nowhere near charming enough for them to be forgiven.

If this film seems even remotely appealing to you, rent an Almodovar picture instead--Woman on Top is merely a rehash of the most superficial qualities associated, in Hollywood, with foreign cinema. :

Woman on Top opens Friday, Sept. 22