A TRIPLE-DECKER sandwich of self-indulgence thick enough to choke a horse. Eat Pray Love stars Julia Robert as Liz, a chronically dissatisfied New York writer Liz Gilbert. Under cloudy financial and marital circumstances (Gilbert’s memoir made them clearer, apparently), Liz suffers a long-lasting crisis over what she’s supposed to do next. Her best friends have a baby—should she produce one too? Instead, she divorces her husband (Billy Crudup, thankless role, even more thankless Dick Cavett hair cut) and drops her subsequent boyfriend (James Franco as actor David Piccolo, which come to think of it is about his range here—he’s piping). Liz heads off on an around-the-world voyage of self-discovery to Italy, India and Bali.
Director Ryan Murphy (the creator of Glee) goes into beautification mode. Eat Pray Love is as rich as a spy thriller; the only difference is that Roberts isn’t shooting the natives this time. We get glamour shots of perfect bowls of pasta: close-ups of Roberts slurping noodles with her new lips; exotic ashrams and emerald rice paddies. In India, Liz goes to worship a photo of a guru, scrubs floors and swears a too-short vow of silence. She also takes a spiritual beating up in India at the hands of hippiesh Richard (Richard Jenkins). At last in Bali, naturally, she finds Mr. Right: a Brazillionaire jewelry importer (Javier Bardem).
I gorge on travel shows, and I have to admit that cinematographer Robert Richardson’s landscapes kept me tranquilized. And how long has it been since a big movie was made in Bali? Bardem’s Iberian musk perfumes the film; he cocks one great warm bedroom eye, lid closed in half-siesta, right to the camera. And the basic argument of Eat Pray Love is strong: these days, who doesn’t feel the ambient toxicity of life in the United States, the need for silence, beauty and good food? Can anyone, however, credit Eat Pray Love‘s argument that the United States is in trouble because we’re not praying hard enough?
It’s Roberts herself who makes the film hard to endure. There’s her facile relationship with the divine (“God, I’m a great fan of your work”). There’s the spurious generosity of the break-up letter (“I believe, with every molecule of my body, you will find the person you want”); there are the self-esteem issues Liz obviously doesn’t have: “He’s won the lottery,” she says, describing a man lucky enough to go to bed with her. The backbone of Eat Pray Love is Liz’s search for the one word that describes her. One word? It’s like something Don Draper would say about a product. After 2 1/2 hours in the company of this woman, the audience might be able to suggest a single word.
PG-13; 133 min.
Plays valleywide
