She may look the part, but Jessica Biel is woefully miscast in Stephan Elliot’s adaptation of Easy Virtue.
Noel Coward’s plays are renowned for their quick wit — machine gun rounds wrapped in English propriety. At 93 minutes, Easy Virtue, an adaptation of Coward’s play of the same name, may be quick, but wit seems to have escaped writer-director Stephan Elliott. Instead, time, in terms of both the film’s length and its setting, may ultimately be the film’s most recommending virtue.
A comedy of manners that throws a vivacious American into a trap of British decorum, the film begins in post-First World War England as prodigal son John Whittaker (Ben Barnes) returns to his family’s country estate. After an impetuous marriage, John arrives with his new wife, an independent race-car driver named Larita (Jessica Biel) whose American pedigree doesn’t sit well with John’s authoritarian mother, played with biting chill by Kristin Scott Thomas. It’s a setup for rivalry, revelation and catty bon mots that, unfortunately, never fully delivers on its promise.
As a comedy, Easy Virtue loses too much of the energy from Coward’s famous repartee. Elliott’s direction and screenplay leave the pace on the floor, while Biel chews the language like a high school Juliet. She may fit the role of an outrageous beauty, but Biel seems woefully miscast as a woman who needs to carry more gravitas as the film’s tone turns to love, death and war. To hear a 27-year-old actress explain that she married a younger man because she was robbed of her own youth stretches credibility as thinly as Elliot’s direction stretches Coward’s words. Overlong pauses and establishing shots of the English countryside seem like leaden additions to stage dialogue, though it is 1920s England that ends up saving the piece.
More manners than comedy, Easy Virtue still manages to offer a passable period piece populated by compelling performances. Though the film’s pacing has evaporated much of its already dry wit, a generally solid British cast, including Thomas and Colin Firth, injects a welcome coolness to the proceedings. As the Whittaker’s world-weary patriarch, Firth smirks his way through with effortless charm broken by occasional frowns of intensity, providing a sympathetic ear to Larita and a sympathetic character for audiences hoping to be let in on the odd knowing chuckle.
The quirky pastiche of the film’s soundtrack also manages to liven up the film, covering songs like “Sex Bomb” with a 1920s bombast that’s both a wink to the audience and a genuinely fun time. In fact, an appearance by “The Easy Virtue Orchestra” as the final credits roll has the sass the film itself seems to be missing. Noel Coward’s words may still live in Easy Virtue, but limp direction and an inadequate lead can’t wake them up. Thank goodness, then, for British charm.
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