Alicia Silverstone makes Amy Heckerling’s Clueless a funny, affectionate comedy about teenagers who take clothes and status seriously. It loses momentum, but Silverstone’s earnest conviction and Heckerling’s ear for slang make it easy to forgive the thin story.
Clueless is a sharp, generous teen comedy that runs a little short of story. Amy Heckerling takes Jane Austen’s Emma into the high-school society of Beverly Hills, where clothes and popularity require the sort of attention usually reserved for earning a living. The comedy depends on taking Cher’s concerns seriously enough to understand them, and then noticing how little she understands herself. Heckerling gets that judgement right: Cher is sheltered and self-important, but the film gives us reasons to like her.
Alicia Silverstone supplies most of those reasons. She plays Cher’s certainty without the little wink that would let the actor appear cleverer than the character. We laughed at the seriousness she brings to Cher’s interest in clothes. She makes the girl’s concern with getting things right look like hard work, even when the things themselves barely matter. That earnestness is funny and rather touching, and it allows Silverstone to show how a kind person can remain oblivious to almost everyone beyond her own social circle.
Bill Pope’s cinematography keeps the colours bright and the affluent surroundings inviting. That matters: if Cher’s life looked unpleasant, her satisfaction with it would be harder to believe. Production designer Steven J. Jordan makes the comfort convincing, although the film seldom pauses to consider who cannot afford it. Mona May’s costumes show how much thought these teenagers put into getting dressed, and give us something to enjoy while we listen to them. The attention paid to their appearance helps make their preoccupations believable.
Heckerling’s screenplay is particularly good at giving these teenagers a shared language without making all of them sound alike. The slang is funny in the mouth, and Silverstone delivers it with a confidence that saves the script from sounding pleased with its own inventions. Stacey Dash as Dionne and Brittany Murphy as Tai help prevent Cher’s social world from becoming a succession of interchangeable faces. Dash’s composure and Murphy’s eagerness give Silverstone different kinds of energy to play against.
The shortage of story does begin to matter. Debra Chiate’s editing gives the exchanges a brisk rhythm, but it cannot stop the film losing momentum once the initial pleasure of Cher’s company settles. At 97 minutes, it is hardly an endurance test, though there is a stretch where we are waiting for the next good line rather than wondering what happens next. David Kitay’s score keeps the tone light, without being particularly memorable in its own right. The music helps maintain the cheerfulness without doing much to disguise the slackening pace.
As an Austen adaptation, it has the good sense to make status something we can recognise without an explanation. The clothes and the tightly restricted social circle are enough. Against teen comedy’s fondness for sorting pupils into heroes and targets, Heckerling’s affection for Cher is refreshing. The film can see the limits of her experience without insisting that she must be humiliated for our benefit. That kindness is a considerable part of why the jokes remain enjoyable.
Watch it with someone who takes clothes seriously and is willing to laugh about that. There is no need to have read Emma, and stopping to explain the literary connections would be poor company. Let Cher finish speaking first.
