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Peck of trouble
In Jessica Stein, a kiss is just the beginning
BY PETER KEOUGH

Kissing Jessica Stein
Directed by Charles Herman-Wurmfeld. Written by Heather Juergensen and Jennifer Westfeldt. With Jennifer Westfeldt, Heather Juergensen, Scott Cohen, Tovah Feldshuh, Jackie Hoffman, Michael Mastro, Carson Elrod, Ben Weber, and Brian Stepanek. A Fox Searchlight Films release. At the Copley Place, the Kendall Square, and the Chestnut Hill and in the suburbs.

As movie kisses go, it may lack pizzazz, but it does stir Jessica Stein from the run-of-mill into an engaging, even edgy bit of romantic fluff. The banalities begin with the premise: how does a nice Jewish girl in Manhattan get laid? Looking in the personal ads is usually a bad idea, so no surprise that Jessica Stein, a square, straight, discontented newspaper copy editor, ends up with the usual montage of bad dates with poor schnooks (vain boor, nerdy cheapskate, closeted gay, etc.).

It appears she’ll have to settle for a loser, and the viewer might have to as well. Then Jessica comes across an ad with her favorite Rilke passage (something to the effect that inertia alone is not responsible for relationships repeating themselves, but also shyness . . . ) — just her luck that it’s in the women-seeking-women section. On the other hand, what does she have to lose?

A slate of made-for-TV stereotypes to begin with. Played by co-writer Jennifer Westfeldt, Jessica seems an uncomfortable combination of Diane Keaton ditziness and Woody Allen anality — she’s her own dysfunctional relationship. Equally formulaic are yenta mother Judy (Tovah Feldshuh), whose sole occupation seems to be finding appropriate mates for her children; homely best friend Joan, played by Jackie Hoffman as a kind of cross between Thelma Ritter and Wallace Shawn; and sniping-ex-boyfriend-who-also-happens-to-be-her-boss Josh, played by Scott Cohen as a bleak and humorless Jerry Seinfeld.

Sounds like a failed WB series. More along the lines of an unsuccessful HBO pilot, however, are the specifics of polymorphously perverse shiksa Helen Cooper (co-writer Heather Juergensen), the firecracker who plants the ad that grabs Jessica’s attention. A Greenwich Village art gallery director, no less, she’s a calculating sexual anarchist who gives one lover the blow-off on the phone while having an office quickie with another. Then she adjusts her déshabille and returns to the white wine and brie of the glitzy opening that’s going on all the while. Such a contrast to shrinking violet Jessica! On the negative side, Helen has the inevitable pair of gay best friends, Martin (Michael Mastro) and Sebastian (Carson Elrod), who offer funny if contradictory advice on her latest crazy idea — having a lesbian lover!

Crank up the generic New York romantic-comedy soundtrack ("Put On a Happy Face!") and it makes you want to cut off this film as quickly as Jessica does the hapless suitor who claims to be a writer and then blurts out a malapropism. Like its title heroine, however, Jessica Stein is a movie that has to exercise a little patience before it can take the plunge and begin to realize its potential. Wait at least until Helen persuades Jessica not to run out on their first date and then deconstructs her life before unexpectedly planting that first big wet one. Tentatively and with some self-consciousness, the two antithetical heroines — and the film — start to explore new experiences. In other words, genuine human behavior.

The adjustment is a little rough, and therein lies a lot of the film’s humor and charm. Jessica’s awkwardness and Helen’s equally awkward solicitude as they cross the profound gulf between talk and physical intimacy make for a hilarious and excruciating montage. After three weeks of this mating dance, Helen is still not getting any. "Who do I have to blow to get some pussy around here!" she rants at her gallery crew. Then the phone rings and it’s Jessica and she’s all cooing and lovy-dovy.

"Is she 12?" asks Sebastian, and for the first time his character doesn’t seem like an irritating contrivance. Even the trite gay best friends become more interesting in the light of this very odd couple. Josh, the failed boyfriend and failed writer and all-around failure, finally gets off his ass and develops some depth when stirred by Jessica’s newfound confusion and happiness, the source of which remains unclear to him. Because as Jessica’s relationship with Helen flourishes (and, except for this complication, becomes cute and cloying), she grows increasingly more insecure and secretive, unable to let any of her friends and family know what she’s gotten herself into.

Which gives them the opportunity to find out for themselves — and in the process grow into something more than caricatures. As when Jessica’s mom, played with sly precision and tender brassiness by Feldshuh, embraces her daughter and says, "I think she’s a very nice girl." She’s more than that, of course, and this is more than a very nice movie.

Issue Date: March 14 - 21, 2002
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