Shopaholicaholic
WORDS: Danny Champken (Sprout Editorial Group)
I probably shouldn't admit to this, but I love a bit of chick-lit. I really do.
I get a kick from the humour, the lightheartedness and the excuse to properly indulge my feminine side.
I also love chick flicks. Every once in a while, that is. I cannot deny that the play count on my Sex And The City: The Movie DVD is somewhat close to indecent.
So when I heard that Sophie Kinsella's Secret Dreamworld Of A Shopaholic was being made into a film, I was no less than ecstatic.
Perhaps the finest example of pure quality, self-indulgent lady-writing I have ever come across, Kinsella’s Shopaholic series is endearing, hilarious and relentlessly cute.
It is also, however, quintessentially British in its taste and style. So I was pretty dubious that our humour would be maintained or understood in the film's American format.
I had nothing to fear, it transpires, as the quirky and side-splitting humour of the book flows perfectly onto the screen, making the retitled movie Confessions Of A Shopaholic (PG, 104mins) a truly charming and relatable one.
The names are all maintained and the plot is followed surprisingly closely, with only a few movie-friendly changes.
Isla Fisher, in what she has described as the pinnacle of her career absolutely shines throughout the film, looking radiant and doing absolute justice to the wide selection of fashion on display.
I was delighted to see her frolicking across the screen with no regard for her own dignity, instead chucking herself Gucci boots-first into the role of shopaholic, Becky Bloomwood.
Thoroughly entertaining from start to finish, and occasionally so funny I felt ill from laughing, Confessions Of A Shopaholic is a stunning, quirky and hilarious feast for chick-flick starved brains, and is in cinemas now.
