Camp out in Stepford

The Stepford Wives was ripe for a remake. Ira Levin’s book, and subsequent 1975 film which portrayed the creepy Connecticut community and its strangely subservient, sexy wives made a poignant comment on the then-fresh ideals of feminism and femininity. Now, 30 years later, women’s roles have shifted immeasurably, and men have had to adapt. The media is stuffed with op-eds examining men’s roles in today’s society, and whether women can really ‘have it all’. So, would Stepford have the same impact in 2004? This dark comedy goes some way to delving into this pertinent controversy, but thanks to test audience-driven re-shoots, wimps out at the end.

Nicole Kidman plays the central part of Joanne Eberhart, a driven, tightly-wound TV executive, whose brilliant career collapses when the star of one of her tacky reality shows goes on a shooting rampage. Kidman starts off on an excellent note, expertly painting Joanna's descent from tough bitch to tranquilised mess, which is both touching and tee-hee funny. So, she and watery-eyed husband Walter (Matthew Broderick), pack up and ship out of Manhattan to Stepford, a picture-perfect community steeped in the 1950's, which Walter immediately loves and Joanne hates.

A bug-eyed Glenn Close is Claire Wellington, the deranged harpy at the centre of the Stepford community. She and her husband Mike (Christopher Walken) are the de facto Presidential couple, she with her Stepford Day Spa for the ladies and he with his mahogony-and-cigars Men's Club.

Joanne is freaked — all the women look like Jessica Simpson, talk like a neutered Jessica Rabbit and seem to enjoy constant wild sex with their dorky husbands. She picks up a couple of other misfit allies in sparky Bobbie Markowitz (a fabulous Bette Midler) and camp-as-Christmas Roger Bannister (Roger Bart). They begin digging around to discover Stepford’s terrible secret — but is it too late for them?

The film is hugely enjoyable, thanks to a punchy, zingy script and an excellent cast (OK, Walken and Midler are just doing the same old schtick they always do, but they're superb at it). But it's riddled with plot holes, thanks to oh-so-evident re-shoots. The most frustrating inconsistency is just what has happened to the women — are they robots and the real women dead or the same women just with brain chips? You’re given both options. And the tacked-on ending is bafflingly out of step with the movie's tone, explaining everything VERY CLEARLY AND SPELLING IT OUT just in case you're all a bunch of fembots yourself.

And what are we expected to think of the men? They’ve replaced their wives with robots, for god's sake, and yet are portrayed as nothing more than harmless geeks. Matthew Broderick’s character is especially inconsistent, fluctuating between drippy passivity and unconvincing retaliation.

It's much better to ignore the political undertones at the heart of Stepford — this update has. Instead, drink in its high campery, broad comedy and stylism. And don't ask yourself what the point of it all is.

The Stepford Wives
Cert: 12A