Blue Jasmine (2013): Blanche, Ruth, Cate

The 2013 installment in the Woody Allen oeuvre, Blue Jasmine, is an entertaining picture, with a must-see, dazzling performance by its star, Cate Blanchett, as its main character, Jasmine French.  Written and directed by Allen, Blue Jasmine’s inspiration, or at least its source material, would appear to be A Streetcar Named Desire (1947 play and/or 1951 movie), amalgamated with the Bernie Madoff fraud scandal, and more specifically the character or circumstances of Madoff’s wife, Ruth.

The story is pretty simple: Jasmine was married to Hal, a flamboyant New York financial tycoon, whose life and fortune came crashing down when it was revealed, a la Madoff, that he was a scam artist and a fraud.   Now penniless, Jasmine arrives in San Francisco to move in with her working class sister, Ginger (Sally Hawkins), in her modest, hard-scrabble apartment, hoping to regroup and put her life back together. This is not unlike the trajectory of Ruth Madoff (who moved in with her sister in Florida).

Jasmine is a superficial, over-privileged, narcissistic bitch, who swans around, recalling the glory of her former wealth, lording it over Ginger, criticizing her ordinariness, and disparaging her grease-monkey boyfriend, Chili (the wonderful, Bobby Cannavale) and Chili’s friends. This situation leads to domestic difficulties, of course, not unlike those in Streetcar between the hard-to-take Blanche, sympathetic Stella, and earthy, virile Stanley Kuwalsky. Allen has a much lighter touch than Tennessee Williams, and much of this stuff is played for laughs, or at least ironic smiles.

Like Williams’ Blanche DuBois, Allen’s Jasmine French is a great, intriguing, ultimately self-destructive mess of a character.  Both of these women are running from the past, both have developed enveloping fantasies about who they are, conflating external circumstances (attractive appearance, past wealth, connections with powerful men) for a jarringly false sense of self-worth. Blanche was alcoholic, Jasmine pops Xanax like candy, and for the same purpose – to escape from the terrible here and now. Both, as it turns out, are mentally ill.

Playing Blanche in Streetcar, Vivien Leigh won the best actress Oscar in 1952. Cate Blanchett’s deep, nuanced portrayal of the exasperating, yet fascinating Jasmine is every bit as good, and I don’t doubt that she’ll be in contention for the prize next March. For me, at least, she completely disappeared into this complex character – not so easy for an actress I’ve seen so many times before.

Blanchett is reason enough to see Blue Jasmine. But though she is the standout, a lot of the supporting cast is also terrific.  One of Allen’s strengths as a writer/director is setting up interesting, meaty situations for his actors and their characters. And there are so many wonderful, interesting, moments in Blue Jasmine, where the actors are allowed to shine.

Susan Hawkins plays her characterization of Ginger deftly – creating a memorable counter weight to the flamboyant Jasmine. This is particularly impressive, because Ginger is supposed to be just a kind-of ordinary girl, trying to live an ordinary life, hoping for a little stability with a decent guy and a bit of ordinary, not spectacular happiness. Hawkins evokes our empathy, and we wind up rooting for her. She’s one of this new wave of British actors, who can blend into an American ensemble without revealing a trace of her mother accent.

Bobby Canavalle, as Ginger’s current boyfriend, plays the blue-collar-good-guy part about as

believably as this stereotype allows. Like his analogue, Mr. Kuwalsky, he is earthbound, comfortable in himself, vigorously masculine and devoted to his friends and to his woman; but he is a modern update,  who is also sensitive and self-aware. Andrew Dice Clay as Ginger’s first husband does a nice job as well, despite the constraints of Allen’s script, which again treats him as a blue-collar stereotype.

The other characters in Blue Jasmine are more of a mixed bag: Alec Baldwin is Hal French, the Madoff stand in, seen exclusively in flashbacks. Hal is extremely egocentric, sleek and suave, and clearly a villain. Baldwin does fine playing this cardboard character. Peter Sarsgard and Louis CK as Jasmine’s and Ginger’s new love interests are OK as well, working against thinly developed characterizations, which are not their fault.

Because the ideas behind this movie are interesting, and the acting ensemble is superior, I left the theater feeling rather elated, high on the experience. Also, emotionally confused – and not in a good way. As time passed, other doubts and criticism crept in.

Allen’s screenplay and direction of Blue Jasmine emphasizes the humorous and the ironic, notwithstanding the essentially tragic arc of Jasmine’s journey. At the end, she is out on the street, pathetically babbling out her fantasies and reminiscences to an imaginary friend. And then the music comes up and, it’s a King Oliver swinging blues number from the 1920’s, a lovely number to be sure, but too light in mood and completely out of synch with the final scene. It’s as if Allen, a student and fan of such music, is saying, ‘hey guys, ha ha, it’s just entertainment.’ Rather than underscoring the scene, he undercuts it. This happens time and again throughout the movie.

Allen pays little attention to some plot details, which, regrettably, tends to reduce the credibility of his story. So, for example, Jasmine, despite being a sophisticated twenty-first century former high society matron, who has chaired various philanthropic and charitable committees in New York City, claims to have absolutely no experience with computers – to the extent that she has to take an introductory computer class, just so she can learn enough to sign up for an online vocational course. Perhaps 77 year-old Woody Allen doesn’t know how operate a computer, but Jasmine certainly would.

As another example, Sarsgard’s character – supposedly a diplomat – is nothing more than a sketch, and basically makes no sense at all. This guy just purchased a gazillion dollar unfurnished house in Tiburon, overlooking San Francisco Bay and The City. Within a few days of meeting Jasmine, he tells her that he is being posted to a European embassy for two or three years (meaning he’ll leave his spanking new house), and asks her to come along and to marry him, knowing absolutely nothing about her.  He also reveals that he hopes to run for the senate or congress or something upon his return, despite the fact that he doesn’t like being with people (Jasmine met him hiding out in a side room at a party), and as far as we can tell, he has no political qualities.

Another gripe along these lines: although set in San Francisco, the movie has absolutely no connection to Northern California. There are a couple street scenes and the obligatory Golden Gate Bridge view to establish place, but as to the story or the people, nada. No Asians, no Hispanics, no blacks, no gays. All the blue-collar types in Ginger’s crowd look and sound like Italian-Americans from Queens or maybe the Bronx. The upper class folks all seem to come from the Upper East Side or the Hamptons.

I don’t mean to overstate the case. Although Blue Jasmine is not as good as it could be and ought to be, still, it’s definitely worth seeing.  Blanchett’s brilliance is reason enough; coupled with generally wonderful performances from the rest of the ensemble, a truly interesting premise, the shades of Streetcar Named Desire, and Woody Allen’s droll touch, you should find this one entertaining, and perhaps moving, as well.  

In general release.