In Her Shoes: Strong acting lifts it above standard chick-flick

In Her Shoes
Starring Cameron Diaz, Toni Collette and Shirley MacLaine
Rating: 2-1/2 stars (out of four)

Photo: Maggie (Cameron Diaz, left) and Rose Feller (Toni Collette), with nothing in common but size 8 feet in "In Her Shoes." (Twentieth Century Fox/ Sidney Baldwin).

There's a scene in In Her Shoes in which Cameron Diaz and Shirley MacLaine sit around a TV set with some neighbours at a Florida retirement community, watching Sex and the City and sipping that show's signature cocktail, the cosmopolitan. In Her Shoes seems to be striving for that series' same mix of witty insights into female relationships and romance with weighty tearjerker moments. Everything about the film cries out to the same core audience: the source material (Susannah Grant's script is based on Jennifer Weiner's novel of the same name, which we'll try to refrain from describing as chick lit); the fascination with footwear (which, naturally, serves as a metaphor throughout); even the location for the ending (a laughter-through-tears wedding, complete with a poetry recitation and wistful cover tunes). What keeps In Her Shoes from striding irretrievably into chick-flick territory are the performances, notably from MacLaine and Toni Collette. As a long-estranged grandmother and granddaughter, both women consistently exude a depth, intelligence and subtlety normally not found in the genre. Director Curtis Hanson, for the most part, keeps the proceedings from collapsing into a frothy mess; at the same time, his pacing sometimes makes you feel as if you're watching some sluggish epic. Hanson would seem an odd choice to direct a movie about two once-close sisters who must find out who they are on their own before they can reconcile as better people. His best known and most acclaimed films -- L.A. Confidential and Wonder Boys -- are powerfully male-centric. Technically, the only reminder that we're in Hanson's hands is the hand-held camerawork he uses in the beginning, reminiscent of 8 Mile, to reflect the instability of Diaz's party-girl character. Diaz's Maggie couldn't be more opposite from Collette's Rose. She hops from job to job, couch to couch, man to man, all with the nonstop force of her good looks and magnetism. She has gotten by all her life through sheer seduction, which the stunning Diaz makes easy to believe (though it's hard to accept that Maggie, a nice Jewish girl from an upper-middle-class Philadelphia family, is approaching 30 and is still so paralyzed by severe dyslexia that she can barely read). Older sister Rose, meanwhile, is a Princeton grad working as a lawyer at a high-powered firm. She's insecure and a little overweight (at least we're supposed to think so; Collette is frequently covered up in cable-knit sweaters and puffy down jackets) but seeks solace in shoes. She keeps her immaculate collection in the closet, the pairs aligned meticulously. "Clothes never look good," she explains to Maggie. "Shoes always fit." But Maggie wants to take the shoes out for a spin -- and frequently does, without permission, such as the day she breaks a heel on one of Rose's favourite pairs of Jimmy Choos. See? Shoes as symbol. We get it -- let's move on. Maggie's offences become so egregious that Rose finally drives her out of the apartment. Having conveniently just happened upon a hidden stack of birthday cards with five-dollar bills from the grandmother she and Rose never knew they had, and having no place else to go, Maggie heads down to Florida. There she meets MacLaine's Ella, who's living in her own denial at a centre for "active seniors" three years after her husband's death, and many more years after the death of her daughter, Maggie and Rose's mother. Things pick up greatly here, even though the humour is a bit too self-consciously borscht belt and the residents are geriatrically randy in a way that's Cocoon-style cute. Ella wants to help this wayward grandchild, even though she senses a schemer beneath the innocent veneer. And her elderly widower neighbours are only too happy to watch Maggie strut poolside in a string bikini. Meanwhile, back in Philly, Rose has quit her stressful law job and taken up dog walking (and you can never go wrong with cutaways to cute canines). She's also allowed herself to fall in love with a colleague from her old firm who's had a crush on her since day one. Mark Feuerstein plays the role with a gentle, sincere sweetness. Once they all reconnect -- and you know they will, we're not giving away any big secrets here -- even the least girlie of girls may find themselves suprisingly choked up - or inspired to go shoe shopping. Or both. - Reviewer: Christinne Lemaire