Somewhat less than the sum of its parts, Woody Allen’s “Blue Jasmine’’ showcases a brilliant, Oscar-worthy performance by Cate Blanchett as sort of a WASP version of Ruth Madoff.
Broke and shattered after the suicide of her disgraced swindler husband, Blanchett’s mesmerizingly self-centered Jasmine shares more than a little DNA with her acclaimed stage performance as Blanche DuBois in “A Streetcar Named Desire.’’
Instead of depending upon the kindness of strangers, this emotionally frayed socialite turns to her sister Ginger (a very good Sally Hawkins), a free-spirited supermarket bagger and single mom who can somehow afford a vast, artfully decorated apartment in one of the most expensive cities in the United States, San Francisco.
Ginger readily takes in her endlessly complaining older sibling (both were adopted) even though Jasmine’s advice to invest with her crooked hubby wiped out the life savings of Ginger and her ex-husband, Augie (Andrew Dice Clay).
When not wallowing in self-pity, Jasmine finds the time to endlessly criticize Ginger’s current choice of blue-collar male, the hot-headed but basically decent Chili (Bobby Cannavale).
Though he hands Clay one great comeuppance scene, Allen’s portrayal of working-class types is more stereotypical than ever. Even more problematic is the filmmaker’s usual remove from day-to-day reality, which works better for his more fantasy-based recent films like “Midnight in Paris.’’
One odd conceit in his uneven script is that Jasmine is so coddled that this 40-something has no idea how to operate a computer (like Allen himself).
Jasmine fends off the advances of the married dentist (Michael Stuhlbarg) for whom she is forced to unhappily work as a receptionist (no computer skills needed there, Allen thinks).
When Ginger improbably drags her along to a party, Jasmine meets a more promising lover — an extremely wealthy diplomat (Peter Sarsgaard, struggling with some of the most awkward dialogue Allen has ever written) who is instantly smitten.
He also has political ambitions, which means poor Jasmine has to brazenly lie about actually being an interior decorator — and worse, her past, which includes a hysterical stepson who wants absolutely nothing to do with her after his father’s death.
Ginger, meanwhile, briefly hooks up with a recording engineer (Louis C.K., wasted in a nothing part) who — well, there are really many surprises in this movie.
All of this plays out against a series of flashbacks to Jasmine’s fabulous lifestyle with her late husband, Hal — played by Alec Baldwin, whose bonhomie gives not the slightest hint he will kill himself (off-screen) when exposed.
Most of the few laughs in this otherwise dour film come at the expense of the then-still-married Ginger and Augie, the poor relations who drop into Manhattan for a visit that their snobbish hosts can’t wait to end.
In another flashback, Jasmine is devastated when she discovers her hubby is having multiple affairs. But she looks away, bored, when associates repeatedly warn him of legally dubious practices by the financial business she partly owns.
“Blue Jasmine’’ may sound like a topical satire, but it isn’t really. It’s a character study of an obnoxious, selfish and supremely self-absorbed woman oblivious to the pain she inflicts on others.
As far as I’m concerned, she basically gets what she deserves in the end. It’s a tribute to Blanchett’s great skill as an actress that I actually felt some sympathy for Jasmine anyway.
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