FILM: For the displeased, music and hats dominate Rachel Getting Married

Readers who saw Havoc and feared for Anne Hathaway’s serious acting career, fear no more – her performance as a reformed junkie, out on release for her sister’s wedding, is the searing centrepiece of Rachel Getting Married. She agonises; she explodes; she strikes, she shrinks, she weeps – and all the while, a bizarre Spanish band play music in the background. At one point, Kym (Hathaway) goes ballistic and slams the door on their twangy meanderings (this was improvised, and part of the film’s verite style). Their presence is so odd and so frequent, you expect them to turn to camera and narrate the action like a Greek chorus, explaining what’s just gone on:

“Are the deeds done too much? Will the family forgive her that emotional crutch? We fear for Kym; she is slim, but certainly not dim. But this path she treads, fills us with terrrrible dreaaadddd.”

And so on. This carnival style emphasises the sheer strangeness of the situation for Hathaway’s wandering, unhappy soul, unused to mass human contact; this is a note that continues throughout the wedding itself – the music plays on, and on, and on and on, reminding the viewer of that portion of a wedding where the drink has started to wear off and one doesn’t know quite what to do. The nuptials are mixed race and, while this isn’t addressed directly, the weaving of every conceivable culture into the celebrations says it all. The service is like a United Colors of Benetton ad, with all colours and creeds; the cake is shaped like an Indian elephant, and the tone of the music ranges from drunk English punk to Bollywood safari, via Isaac Hayes. The worst musical offender is a crooner resembling Peter Cook, while great fashion offence comes from the white man who persists in the wearing of racially suggestive hats.

This is either a splendid celebration of all things shiny and lovely, or a bloody nightmare that marrs an otherwise interesting exploration of addiction, and family dynamics. It depends on your perspective. After the movie, one of our correspondents overheard an occupier of the ladies’ described it as like the ‘f***ing United Nations’. She was distinctly unimpressed. The scene with the competitive dishwasher stuffing was also singled out for criticism – it may have been based on a real event, but it felt stitched on. These are both negatives that stand out much more if you dislike other parts of the movie, but Hathaway’s performance through what is mostly an utterly believable family world is engrossing in the extreme, and comes highly recommended from this quarter.