Sure, Angelina Jolie can parade around in a skin-tight catsuit to play tomb-raiding Lara Croft, but what about 30 years from now? Would she just as happily do a nude scene then, wrinkles and all, with only two iced buns protecting her modesty? To pull that off takes confidence, grace and an infectious sense of humor and Calendar Girls is busting out with all of them.
Based on the true story of the U.K.'s Rylstone Women's Institute think bake-offs and quilting circles whose members posed for a tastefully nude calendar in 1999 to raise money for leukemia research, Calendar Girls (out in the U.K. this week, the rest of Europe soon after) is a celebration of mature beauty with a giddy playfulness usually reserved for twentysomething romantic comedies.
We don't know what director Nigel Cole said to convince some of Britain's most beloved actresses to bare all, but he didn't just want them for their bodies. Helen Mirren is superb as Chris, the brains behind the project. In a turnaround from her reserved roles in Gosford Park and Last Orders, she's wickedly witty and absolutely radiant.
As her more grounded best friend Annie, Julie Walters reins in her usual gag-a-minute cheekiness with quiet dignity, but gets some of the film's best lines: "Of course we're not going to go prancing around naked in a roomful of men this isn't France!" And surrounding them is a strong ensemble cast, each one sitting just on the right side of caricature.
Touching without too many tears, Calendar Girls offers charming and lighthearted proof that the fun doesn't have to end at 40.