ð¯Õ¼Èµ³²£¬The Other Boleyn Girl

Mary Boleyn: "You know I love him."

Anne Boleyn: "Well, perhaps you should stop."

Sassed her, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!

If Russ Meyer had made "The Other Boleyn Girl," Anne and Mary Boleyn would have yanked some hair, scratched some eyeballs, walloped each other in their respective kissers, and the movie would have been all the better for it. Just imagine: "Beneath the Valley of the Tudorvixens": Meee-oww!

As it is, "The Other Boleyn Girl" is a sullen genre picture, hardly as vivacious as Meyer's uncategorizable ploitation films, and not as edifying, either. It's built on sturdy old generic conventions, as familiar as those in any slasher film or naughty-nurses potboiler.

A(n) historical drama about backstabbing and decapitation in the court of Henry VIII, the film unfurls as historical dramas are wont to do, because in no other genre does a film unfurl. We recognize its distant ancestors in Shakespeare's illustrious Henry histories, from "Henry IV, Part I" (the adventures of Prince Hal and Falstaff), through "Henry VIII" (which ends with the baptism of a certain Girl Who Would Be Queen). It's also a political thriller, roiling with internecine intrigue; a fervid melodrama about sibling rivalry, and a torrid bodice-ripper, although the only chest exposed is Eric Bana's because the bodices are PG-13. Sure, it's a genre movie, but that doesn't mean it confines itself to one genre. www.130q.com

Art-directed in gloomy House of Tudor colors, "The Other Boleyn Girl" offers high-toned pulp for those who like to imagine themselves superior to ranch-colonial Desperate Housewives, and who don't like to feel so guilty about the pleasure they get from vicarious lust and treachery. Movies like this are designed to let the art-house crowd revel in marginally educative vulgarity without getting their sensibilities dirty.

The "other" Boleyn girl is ostensibly fair Mary (Scarlett Johansson), the one who didn't marry Henry VIII (Bana) but who bore him a bastard son, anyway. Her more ambitious and impetuous brunet sister is none other than the renowned Anne of the Thousand Days (Natalie Portman), the one who didn't know hers were numbered at the time, and who became famous for losing her head when all around her were keeping theirs, or desperately trying to do so. This Henry isn't quite the Bluebeard he's sometimes made out to be, and Anne is uncharacteristically portrayed as the villainess of the codpiece.

Anne and Henry eventually co-produced the subject of this film's de facto sequels, "Elizabeth" and "Elizabeth: The Golden Age," both of which starred Cate Blanchett as the Virgin Queen, something neither Anne nor Mary would have been very good at.

If the filmmakers had been able to call this one "Elizabeth: The Prequel," they would have. Oddly, writer Peter Morgan, who adapted his screenplay from Philippa Gregory's historical novel, already penned "Elizabeth II" back in 2006, when it was called "The Queen."

"The Other Boleyn Girl" eventually owns up to its Elizabethan pretensions in its final shot, but it never lives up to them. (Speaking of sequel-prequels, it is disconcerting to see former "Star Wars" royal Portman -- Princess Leia's mom! -- crying, "You're my only hope!" in this Boleynian context, when Obi-wan Kenobi is still in a galaxy far, far away but not quite so long ago.)

After seeing pictures like this, somebody always feels compelled to offer an inane observation like, "I thought the acting and the costumes were good." OK, they are. Johansson and Bana are enjoyable; Portman slightly less so because, even though she's got the juiciest role, she doesn't quite have the presence to fill it. All three actors are far more attractive than period portraiture suggests.

Anne, who proved she would indeed have a Willy but not a Sam, provides an object lesson in playing hard to get when it comes to Henry. She drives the incongruously handsome king mad with desire to manipulate him into the marriage that split the Catholic Church. The movie's thesis is that feminine success consists of "allowing men to believe they are in charge. That is the art of being a woman." It's advice Anne took to heart, but her success was cut short.

ð¯Õ¼Èµ³²£¬The Other Boleyn Girl

If Shakespeare was writing the screenplay for The Other Boleyn Girl, he might have named it Much Ado About Nothing. In truth, a more fitting title would be Much Ado About Something Done Better Dozens of Times Before. The story of how Anne Boleyn seduced Henry VIII into breaking from Rome (and an affair with her sister, Mary) has been the stuff of several cinematic epics. But from the flawed casting choices (two Americans and an Australian play these important British figureheads) to the questionable historical accuracy here, the movie is a Harlequin romance with none of the genre's steam or sizzle.

With his Queen unable to bear him a son, Henry VIII (Eric Bana) seeks solace in the beds of local noblewomen. When the Duke of Norfolk (David Morrissey) learns of this proclivity, he attempts to exploit it for his family's benefit. Calling on brother Sir Thomas Boleyn (Mark Rylance) and his wife, Lady Elizabeth (Kristin Scott Thomas), they come up with a devious plan. They will invite the king to their estate, and then parade daughter Anne (Natalie Portman) before him. Of course, his Majesty has his own designs, and after a hunting accident, he takes a fancy to the fairer, more compassionate Boleyn girl Mary (Scarlett Johansson). Immediately becoming his concubine, the entire family is whisked off to court. But Anne will not be vanquished, and will do anything to claim her royal reward.  www.130q.com

More bodice-tripping that -ripping, The Other Boleyn Girl is a dull, tedious slog. It provides none of the passion, none of the political intrigue we've come to expect from such veiled period pieces, and reemphasizes a single point—Anne's jealousy of Mary—more times than is humanly necessary. Though Phillipa Gregory's novel is well considered, and the script was penned by none other than The Queen and The Last King of Scotland scribe Peter Morgan, something about Justin Chadwick's pedestrian direction undermines any drama either inherent or manufactured. Clearly captivated by the stars he's hired, he sets them adrift inside a lot of fake pomp and quite a few unbelievable circumstances. About halfway through, Lady Elizabeth makes a comment about women being treated like chattel. It's a sentiment that can apply to the actors here as well.

But there is much more that is unsettling about The Other Boleyn Girl besides royalty's desire for power and ual satisfaction at any cost. There isn't a single likeable character here. Henry comes across as boorish, petty, and rather heartless. While it may be a matter of record, it gives Bana little to work with. We end up with a king whose acts of interpersonal cruelty rival those committed in his tower. Similarly, Natalie Portman is incredibly shrill as Anne. She schemes. She connives. She plays right into her uncle and father's plan, and then balks when the consequences arrive. Her fall from grace is not tragic, it's trying. Instead of representing the catalyst for Britain's break with the Catholic Church, she's like a whiny school girl who got caught out past curfew.

That just leaves Johansson to hold everything together, and she's just not up to the task. Mary is viewed as a martyr, a girl who sacrifices everything—husband, reputation, claim to the throne, Henry's actual love—so that her sibling can climb up the social ladder. With all the love/lust machinations bubbling through the first hour, Chadwick has to rush through the last few sequences to work the actual facts in. It all comes across as superficial and staged.

Lovers of Lifetime movies about monarchs might enjoy The Other Boleyn Girl, but there is very little of the Bard, or any other accomplished artist, in this creaky costume drama.