'Alfie' blends slime with sincerity

Jude Law makes viewers both cringe and root for his character.
By BETSY PICKLE
SCRIPPS HOWARD
As long as there are men and women, there will always be room for another look at "Alfie."
A remake of the 1966 Michael Caine hit, "Alfie" stars Jude Law as the titular inveterate womanizer. The significant changes are a handsomer Alfie, a subtler form of Alfie's misogynistic behavior and a switch in venue from London to New York, although ironically the bulk of the movie was shot in Manchester, England.
In the nearly 40 years since the first Alfie emerged during the swinging '60s, he has never really gone away. He was Tony in "Saturday Night Fever," Brian in "Cocktail" and most of the characters in "Swingers," to name but a few.
Fans of TV's "Nip/Tuck" will recognize Christian Troy as an Alfie male, albeit a more financially successful one. Alfie's trademarks are serial sex, a strong aversion to commitment and an ability to ignore the impact of his actions on others. In other words, to the cynical mind, Alfie is Everyman.
This Alfie drives a limo, dresses sharply and resists efforts to tie him down. He subscribes to the European philosophy of wine, women and song -- minus the song, heavy on the women.
No shortage of women
He's happy to service a rich man's lonely wife, Dorie (Jane Krakowski), until she gets too serious. He has a "quasi" girlfriend, a single mom named Julie (Marisa Tomei), but he doesn't feel totally at one with her because she "doesn't have enough of the superficial things that really matter."
Alfie tries on wild child Nikki (Sienna Miller) and wise woman Liz (Susan Sarandon) for size; it isn't clear who's less the perfect fit, Alfie or the seeming dream woman. Meanwhile, he's sympathetic as best friend Marlon (Omar Epps) tries to reconnect with Lonette (Nia Long), yet he proves sympathy isn't really his strong suit.
Law triumphs against some tough odds in "Alfie." Not only does he play a potentially unlikable bloke, he also constantly has to break the fourth wall and talk to the audience, sharing his true thoughts and observations while glibly cooing the opposite.
Plus, he's in every scene, so the potential for even devoted fans becoming sick of the sight of him is great. Law finds the right balance of slime, sincerity and self-examination and makes viewers both wince at and root for him.
Director's decisions
Although the women are well-cast, they don't get nearly as much of a chance to play. Miller, especially, is shortchanged by director Charles Shyer's decision to turn her arc into an homage to '60s fashion photography.
In general, Shyer seems more concerned with the surface than the core. Shyer would rather load the film with not-so-subliminal messages than make any substantial statements. The songs by Mick Jagger and David A. Stewart show the same lack of subtlety. It's mainly Law's growing awareness that will make viewers care what it's all about.