Review of Birthday Girl (2002) by Soyan C — 21 May 2008

Now although I'm one for versatility, I'm wondering whether Nicole Kidman might have taken a wrong turn in her internal quest to become Meryl Streep. You see, two years ago everyone's favourite non-vertically challenged Aussie did her career double favours with a high kicking, corset wearing performance in Moulin Rouge followed up by a spine chilling, cardigan wearing stint in The Others. But now, having convinced the world she's the queen of all genres, she seems to want to convince us she's the queen of all genres within the same film. Hence her appearance in low budget Brit flick Birthday Girl. A dramatic, romantic, comedy thriller... With a heart, of course.

Kidman appears as a Russian mail order bride ordered by lonely bank worker Ben Chaplin to keep him warm on those long, cold St. Albans nights. Unfortunately, like so many catalogue products, the promised English speaking domestic worker Chaplin thinks he'll be getting turns out to be non-English speaking and devoid of any household skills. Except, as it transpires, a willingness for kinky sex. Not surprisingly, Chaplin's initial doubts about his linguistically challenged partner are soon removed. Until, that is, two Russians claiming to be Kidman's cousins arrive on Chaplin's doorstep and soon begin to make themselves at home. Here things take a turn for the tired and familiar, so before you can say "There's something fishy about those strange Russian men" things take a turn for the worst and the rather violent.

The problem with Birthday Girl is pretty much what the distributors found when they tried to sell it: it doesn't have any idea what sort of film it is. Packaged as dark thriller on the other side of the Atlantic and (bizarrely) as a romantic comedy here in limey, it has the requisite requirements of both these genres but neither the skill nor wit to gel them together. The idea of a dark thriller with Chaplin trying to communicate with a mute Kidman would have been intriguing. But rather than travel this more difficult route, Birthday Girl cops out with Kidman revealing that, actually, she understood English all along. Thus making redundant the film's entire first hour and sucking most of the joy along with it. It's rather like having Helen Keller turning around one day and telling her teacher that she'd rather she stopped splashing water all over her hand and let her go inside and watch television.

Which is a shame, as Chaplin and Kidman do make a refreshingly non perfect looking couple. And there is something rather charming about a love story expressed with everything but words. More charming, anyway, than Chaplin being beaten up and shot at by cliché Russian mobsters. But I digress. For what it is, Birthday Day is well acted and features some interesting, if often drab, direction from newcomer Jez Butterworth. Furthermore, I'm fully supportive of any British movie which tempts a mainstream Hollywood actress to take time out of her high flying career and work on this side of the Atlantic. Just not this one.