Chalet Girl

The synopsis of Chalet Girl reads like a veritable minefield of painfully predictable rom-com mechanics: A working class girl falling for a wealthy Lothario? Check. Brooke Shields as an evil stepmother? Check. A dead mother’s wishes spurring on our heroine? Check. A (not really) impossible competition taking place in the final ten minutes of the film? Check. And – oh Jesus – the director of the truly unforgivable piece of unfunny, unromantic crud that was All About Steve? Groan, and check.
Thankfully Phil Traill’s second feature film isn’t the endurance test that his debut was (though granted, that’s not exactly high praise).
Felicity Jones stars as feisty waitress Kim, who lands a job as a housekeeper in a wealthy family’s Alpine chalet. Despite clashing with her “OMG, hi babez!” colleague Georgie (Tasmin Egerton), suffering inevitable accidents involving Champagne corks as well as going through the obligatory five minute montage of her falling off her skis, she soon begins to find her feet, and a love interest. Ed Westwick (one of those pouty Robert Pattinson-types) is serviceable as the engaged posh boy who quickly falls for Kim’s straight-talking charm, and though their shallow romance isn’t particularly engaging, the two actors lash into their quip-laden banter with gusto, and Jones’ infectious spark is utterly endearing.
Kim’s foray into the world of professional snowboarding is similarly style over substance, with the race footage focusing more on her outfits and the MTV-friendly soundtrack than interesting or kinetic shots, but bearing in mind the audience it’s a forgivable style choice.
The supporting cast are a mixed bag, with charming dads Bill Nighy and Bill Bailey generating most of the laughs, while Egerton’s socialite and a crazy Finnish snowboarder prove to be slightly irritating caricatures.
But with Jones’ innate charm, jokes about Facebook and tunes from The Temper Trap and Paloma Faith, Chalet Girl has no ideas above its station and is the better for it, proving to be a fun and frothy – if utterly forgettable – frolic in the snow.