'Mrs. Henderson Presents': Bombshells at Dame Judi's
Palm Beach Post
The incomparable Judi Dench has taken lately to small, though indelible, cameos, like her recent imperious appearance in Pride and Prejudice as Lady Catherine. As enjoyable as her performance was, it was a mere morsel compared with the banquet she serves up in the fact-based backstage yarn, Mrs. Henderson Presents.
The Weinstein Company
B The verdict: Dench is charmingly irascible in a whimsical London backstage tale. Director: Stephen Frears On the web |
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Chances are Dame Judi sized up the role and the movie accurately, recognizing the material as inconsequential. Still, it affords her the best role she has had in a while and has given her an Oscar nomination.
It is not that Laura Henderson presents much of a challenge for Dench, being a slight variation on the upper-class, sharp-tongued women on which she has built her career. Still, actress and role are an ideal match, and Dench both devours the character and soon has us eating out of her hand.
The place is London between the world wars, and the newly widowed Mrs. Henderson needs to find herself a hobby. By chance, she rides past the West End's moribund Windmill Theatre and, on a whim, she buys it and faster than you can say Max Bialystock becomes a theatrical producer.
Knowing nothing about the theater, she hires a resident director, the equally opinionated and stubborn Vivian Van Damm (Bob Hoskins, who blossoms from being paired with Dench). From their first meeting, their prickly, confrontational relationship is established. As noted, long after it occurs to us, they are at each other's throats like a long married couple, constantly bickering, but with an underlying admiration and affection.
In need of a gimmick to make the Windmill stand out from the rest of the neighborhood theaters, Mrs. Henderson suggests musical revues featuring female nudity, not unlike the theater's French namesake, the Moulin Rouge. This leads to an amusing negotiation between Mrs. Henderson and an old friend, the Lord Chamberlain (an amusingly unnerved Christopher Guest), the government's censor, who agrees to the policy but is worried about the jiggle factor, so he decrees that the women must remain stationary in relatively tasteful tableaux.
Auditions ensue along with a national search for a chorus line of uniform British breasts. When the cast feels self-conscious during rehearsals, Hoskins gets naked too, to put them at ease. To no one's surprise, naked flesh sells, the Windmill becomes a popular hit and during the blitz and blackouts of World War II, this below-ground theater is the only one that remains open.
Mrs. Henderson convinces herself that her nudie show is actually a public service, raising the morale of British soldiers. In the film's less persuasive second half, the tone darkens as Dench plays matchmaker to the revue's star blonde (Kelly Reilly) and a young serviceman, an effort that ends tragically.
Although the Windmill's shows cause quite a stir among the Brits, compared with adult entertainment today, it all seems quite innocent. Dench does not get involved in the nudity, but she does don peculiar costumes like a Chinese coolie and a polar bear once Van Damm bars her from her own theater. And she has a few moments going through the moves of a fan dance that suggest she was one hot number in her youth.
Screenwriter Martin Sherman (Bent) pens witty one-liners and director Stephen Frears (My Beautiful Laundrette, Dirty Pretty Things) brings them to life with efficiency, even though he is used to less flimsy material.
None of Mrs. Henderson Presents would warrant a feature film without Dench, who makes the journey back in time worth taking.
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