Lovely Rita

Oh! lovely Rita, meter maid
Where would I be without you?
Give us a wink and make me think of you

“Lovely Rita” by the Beatles

It’s been a long time since I last saw I Am Sam (2001), but the other night I slid the disc into the player and gave it a spin. This rewatch confirmed a couple of things. One, it’s not a great film. It’s good, in parts, but it suffers from an abundance of cringeworthy sentimentality and some truly headache-inducing camera movement—this was during the heyday of directors thinking that swinging the lens around wildly equaled Art with a capital A. Twenty-odd years later, it’s safe to say that it most definitely did not.

I can’t criticize the cast, though, as almost everyone involved does their level-best with the script. As the the intellectually disabled Sam, Sean Penn delivers a touching and respectful performance. It’s no surprise he was Oscar nominated for it, as he never condescends, even when the script and direction do. Diane Weist, Richard Schiff, and Laura Dern all do their usual strong work. Yet, for me—and stop me if you’ve heard this before—the main reasons to revisit I Am Sam has to be Michelle Pfeiffer as successful Los Angeles attorney Rita Harrison Williams.

I Am Sam traces the Beatles-obsessed Sam’s journey to regain custody of his seven year old daughter (Dakota Fanning), whose intelligence level is already beginning to surpass Sam’s. That’s where Rita comes in. Through some combination of guilt and desperation, she takes on Sam’s case, pro bono (“I do pro bono!”). Rita’s career success comes at a cost, we learn. She works herself to the bone while struggling to maintain strained relationships with her absent husband and young son. Rita takes on Sam’s case to impress colleagues, but also it seems to prove to herself that she’s not a cold corporate lawyer, but instead someone who can make a difference in someone else’s life—namely, Sam’s.

Over the course of the film, Michelle masterfully peels back Rita’s hidden layers, revealing a depth even she didn’t seem to know she possessed. She’s a fascinating character, and one that Michelle makes feel entirely original. Sure, we’ve seen the successful woman who’s really just a wounded child underneath it all, but in Michelle’s capable hands, Rita becomes something more than just a tired trope—she becomes a character we grow to care for deeply.

Can we stop for a second to praise how fabulous Michelle’s wardrobe, hair, and makeup are in this film? Why am I asking you this? Of course we’re going to praise how fabulous Michelle’s wardrobe, hair, and makeup are in this film. Sporting one killer power suit after another, Michelle’s Rita commands the screen. It doesn’t hurt that she also rocks a sexy pair of glasses in some scenes too—what is it about a beautiful woman in glasses?? Yvonne Craig, can you answer that question?

Michelle’s makeup in the film is flawless, as usual, but especially because longtime pal Ronnie Specter is her makeup artist here. From The Fabulous Baker Boys (1989) to Wolf (1994) to Stardust (2007) and so, so many more, Specter has consistently taken a perfect canvas—Michelle’s face—and managed to enhance that perfection. I Am Sam is the sort of film during which I sat gobsmacked in the theater, almost unable to comprehend Michelle’s exquisite beauty. Obviously that’s been a frequent occurrence during viewings of her films, but still, I have a particularly vivid memory of it happening during I Am Sam.

Though flawed, I Am Sam still lingers, thanks to Penn’s Oscar-nominated performance, but more so because of moments like Pfeiffer’s show-stopping, tearjerker of a monologue late in the film. After Sam vents his understandable frustrations, atatint that Rita wouldn’t understand because she’s perfect, Rita breaks down. Through sobbing tears of guilt, shame, and fear, Rita lays bare her feelings of being a failure—as a mother, as a woman. It’s a powerful moment, the signature

It’s easy to recognize Michelle’s greatness in her best films, like Frankie and Johnny (1991) or Dangerous Liaisons (1988). Revisiting lesser films from her catalogue can be equally rewarding, as they offer ample evidence that, no matter the excellence or mediocrity of the film, Michelle always leaves an indelible impression.