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Lost in the department store

Los Angeles is often portrayed as a city of lost hope — a city of many people where no two can relate. It is a place where lost souls converge and drift with sullen grace. And of course, this would be the perfect destination for the gloomiest girl in the world to hold shop. Director Anand Tucker’s “Shopgirl” disguises itself as a modern-day fable of dour proportions: Mirabelle (Claire Danes) is a sad girl, stuck in a sad job in a sad city — how the hell has she not killed herself?

As with many agonizing retail jobs, Mirabelle’s position as lone-girl-behind-the-counter is depressing. She hunches over the counter, glancing at anything that walks her way, desperate to grab on to a customer for a sale (or love) until one day she meets Jeremy (Jason Schwartzman). He is as awkward and lonely as she, but with quirks to spare. Maybe he will cheer her up. Cue entrance of mysterious businessman Ray Porter (Steve Martin). His charm and money trounce Jeremy’s immature boyishness. Their union creates much needed stability in Mirabelle’s life — until he cheats on her and she stops taking her anti-depressants. Cue histrionics and precious, slow-motion tracking shot. These losers never had a chance.

Mirabelle is a girl out of place — and maybe even time: a tall, slender thing from Vermont, living in a big, scary city, dating someone older than her father. Danes fits quite well into this mold. Her emaciated figure and caved-in eyes fill the screen with the right measure of fear and hope. She recalls some of her best melancholic work since her early days on the short-lived television series “My So-Called Life.” Martin also gives an understated, moving performance as a fellow listless Los Angelean, perfectly teeming with allure and sadness. Schwartzman, on the other hand, is on autopilot, never truly shaking his past performances of oddball characters to make Jeremy his own. He also does not contain the same emotional arsenal of Danes and Martin; his attempts feel futile.

However, “Shopgirl” straddles — and strangles — the indie film-chick hierarchy: Mirabelle has the awkward mobility of Maggie Gyllenhaal in “Secretary” and the desperate whimsy of Scarlett Johansson in “Lost in Translation.” This character has been seen before — too many times.

Jeremy’s quirks and slapstick don’t quite match up with the overall gloom and doom. And it does not help that the script falls flat everywhere but the May-December romance between Danes and Martin. All the sidelining characters seem sprinkled in for good measure, too convenient and underdeveloped. It is a shame Martin’s script, adapted from his own 2001 novella of the same name, is so desperate to be liked. Using quaint but awkward narration to guide the audience along, Martin sacrifices emotional ambiguity for easy answers. Director Tucker isn’t up to the challenge either. Never completely able to coerce good chemistry between Danes and Schwartzman, he leaves their union contrived and uninspired.

“Shopgirl” wants to be a grown-up film about disconnected people in complicated relationships. But this is just another film about a sad girl who meets a boy, falls in love, and things end up just fine. What a bore.

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