Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day
A wonderfully breezy, champagne cocktail of an old-fashioned comedy, that fizzes away with all the madcap, feel-good fun of a 1930s screwball classic, Miss Pettigrew is largely buoyed by the charms of a wigglesome, wide-eyed Amy Adams, doing her ditzy naïf thing as a kooky but kind-hearted American ingénue, juggling three beaus (a gangster, a cad and a penniless piano player – gee, which one will she end up with?) and a nascent theatrical career on the eve of World War Two. Frances McDormand is the dour, frumpy London governess who finds herself employed as ‘social secretary’ to the fluttery Adams – the Jeeves to her Wooster – and sets about untangling her love-life and stumbling on a spot of romance for herself. Entirely populated by the bright young things of a Noel Coward London, trading rapid-fire quips at cocktail parties in a heady swirl of cigarette smoke and swing band music, while it lacks the sardonic spikiness of its predecessors, Miss Pettigrew is still a fun and frothy nostalgic delight – they don’t make ‘em like this anymore. [Laura Smith]