I confess to being predisposed to admire films in which an actress who rose to stardom largely on her beauty dives into a role that seriously downplays, if not obscures, the looks that made her famous. The most stunning conversion along those lines was Charlize Theron’s adopted dumpiness for her Oscar-winning role in Monster. Before that, Michelle Pfeiffer frumped herself for The Russia House. Nicole Kidman, Sandra Bullock, Julia Roberts and others have done the same. Most of those films have been indie dramas that were vehicles for glamourous stars to show they have chops as thespians, and aren’t just picture-pretty properties.
This time it’s Salma Hayek as a clinic’s shy massage therapist, mainly helping cancer patients with her skillful touch and infinite empathy. Beat-up car; old baggy jeans; no makeup; practical hairstyle (or lack of one). The TLC she gave the daughter of a rich couple led to a bond with the family beyond her on-site duties, including house calls for the family. On one such visit, car trouble keeps her from leaving, which lands her at the table among the guests at a small business dinner with the husband’s colleagues. One of them (John Lithgow) is a rich and powerful player in California politics and real estate. He’s also a pompous jerk. Even worse, he may have an unfortunate link to travails in Beatriz’ past.
Though billed as a comedy, the overall tone is more serious.
READ THE FULL REVIEW AT CLAYTON/RICHMOND HEIGHTS PATCH:
https://patch.com/missouri/clayton-richmondheights/movie-review-beatriz-dinner
