This past weekend I finally got around to watching Confessions of a Shopaholic, (judge me, I know you want to) and while I didn’t expect to be pleased by this film, because I quite enjoyed the book, I also didn’t expect how dissapointed I was.
It’s simple (or at least in my mind it is), this was not a difficult book to turn into a movie. This was not Jose Saramago’s Blindness (which while in movie format wasn’t fantastic, it wasn’t terrible).
This is what should have happened in this film:
1. Hire a british actress (or at least someone who can pull off a convincing enough accent) to play the lead.
2. Hire a hottie man to play the love interest, Hugh Grant would have been perfect (but that’s just because I think he’s perfect).
3. Follow the storyline of the first book. Don’t add to it. Don’t take away from it. Don’t pick and choose random bits from the series, then throw them together and hope for the best. Just follow it as it is.
4. Release film.
5. Roll in dough.
What was wrong with the film? Everything. Becky’s American (she’s not in the book, she eventually moves to the states in the second book), Luke Brandon looks like he’s twelve, in the book he’s described as being older, established, and having a bit of an air about him. Where are Becky’s parents? In the book they are soo much more prominent. John Goodman?!? Seriously?!?! and when did they become hippies?!?! When did the green scarf become such an important symbol? Where are the crazy neighbours? The only characters that were somewhat right were Suze and Tarquin, and even then they left out a whole storyline explaining how those two get together.
WHO WROTE THIS SCRIPT? and why did Sophie Kinsella allow them to butcher her book?
Soo many questions. Soo much anger. Ughhh!
