The Shape of Things

Always worth watching thanks to his invariably razor-sharp dialogue, Neil LaBute has nonetheless yet to truly deliver on the promise shown by his inestimably wonderful first two films (Your Friends & Neighbours and In The Company of Men). Still, even his less sparkling efforts – the adaptation of AS Byatt’s novel Possession leaps to mind – are a joy to watch when set against the vast bulk of the Hollywood competition, thanks to the copious levels of black humour and mordant wit on offer.
Misanthropic, mischievous but keenly-observed battle epics based around the war of the sexes are LaBute’s speciality, and his latest outing The Shape of Things fits the bill perfectly. Based on LaBute’s own stage play, its theatrical nature is arguably a little too obvious on occasion, but there’s still plenty here to satisfy. As cruel, callous and calculating as cancer, the plot concentrates largely on the misadventures of bespectacled, overweight, hopelessly un-self-confident Adam (Paul Rudd), a virtual adult virgin who becomes involved with ultra-pretentious art student Evelyn (Rachel Weisz), heralding a complete sea-change in the guy’s demeanour, which doesn’t always reflect him in the most flattering light.
The central quartet are completed by Fred Weller and the curiously-named Gretchen Mol, and although Weisz’ s timing wavers here and there in what is probably her first credible project to date, her presumed box-office appeal will no doubt more than offset the damage. As ever with LaBute, The Shape of Things is plotted with spectacular precision and intelligence, and if it never totally transcends its stage origins, it’s still more than worthy of your attention.