Who knows what tomorrow brings. Nothing is certain. Thus, one has no real way of knowing. In Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, a nice, elderly woman (Frances McDormand), unloved, alone, scared, thrown out from a job, hungry, and penniless, lives for a day without too much of a thought for what lies ahead.
The detailing in the script, including the placement of objects in the frame, says a lot. Moments after the door of a plush apartment is opened by Delysia (Amy Adams), the spectator gets to know all they are required to know about the sweet-smiling girl, her misdeeds, habits, and many lovers. Her innerwear is handing from the ceiling fan. And there’s a naked man in her bed who needs to be ushered out before the next boyfriend comes calling.
The dialogues are brilliant; crisp wit, very Brit. The expressions of the leading ladies make for a fine study of nuances. And the casting is first class, from the shabby, disheveled Frances McDormand, stoic and full of hope; and the delightful, hyper-excited Amy Adams, vivacious with the falsity that is the trademark of blondes; to a sickly-stiff woman with a rat’s voice.
The nightclub jazz tracks create an elegant mood. But the audio track is too crystal clear; there is no ambience sound. Did someone forget to include a sound person? And was there no sound effects editor in the studio?
The camera prefers to laze around, without moving too much. One odd time when it does, while slowly panning in a hall during a cocktail party, the image appears to be slightly out of focus and blurry; perhaps, this was intentional; when the pan stops, the hostess is spread out on the divan and the party is long over. Not something that one anticipates, really; excellent way of creating time lapse.
I wasn’t in England on the verge of WWII. Still, I would think it looked a whole lot like what the folks in charge of the sets and the costumes would have us believe. There are both extremes on display: the opulence of the wealthy and the rags of the starved.
Bharat Nalluri’s romcom drama has the specter of war and uncertainty hanging over it. Nothing in life is quite predictable. One could be dancing in luxury on one day, and on the next, trying desperately to get at a half-eaten apple on the railway platform before someone can sweep it off into the garbage.
