'The Look of Love'

Michael Winterbottom has rarely let me down.

His films range from the joyful noises he makes with Steve Coogan ("24-Hour Party People," "Tristram Shandy," "The Trip") to his amazing Terrorism Trilogy -- "Road to Guantanamo," "In This World" and "A Mighty Heart." But the three most recent of his movies that I've seen -- 2010's "The Killer Inside Me," 2011's "Trishna" and his current effort "THE LOOK OF LOVE" -- have ended his run of guaranteed raves.

"The Look of Love" reunites him with Coogan in a biopic of Paul Raymond, the British "men's club" impresario who reigned in Soho in the 1960s, '70s and '80s. While it's a satisfying portrayal of a man and an era, the proceedings come off as surprisingly subdued. There's no giddiness of, say, "Boogie Nights," and that's not necessarily a criticism; just an observation. Winterbottom frames the proceedings from the wistful perspective of Raymond near the end of his life, looking back at his successes (making money) and his failures (he was a lousy husband and father). No matter how much wealth and acclaim he attracted, nothing seemed to give him more true pleasure, in the end, than taking his daughter or granddaughter to the bakery and letting the little girl pick out her favorite dessert.

The other drawback here is the supporting cast, which (again, in stark contrast to "Boogie Nights") is rather drab and uninspiring. It's as if Coogan goes looking for energy to play off of and comes up empty, no matter whom he turns to. The stunning Tamsin Egerton, as Raymond's trophy wife and business partner, adds the most zip in a role inordinately devoted to coked-up threesomes. Raymond's other business partners are mostly ciphers with pornstaches. Amanda Poots' rendition of the title song is both lovely and touching. However, her efforts in the key role of Raymond's troubled daughter, Debbie -- doing lines with her irresponsible dad and struggling to launch a career with modest talents -- are rather scattershot.

Finally, there's no ignoring the wall-to-wall nudity throughout the film. Just about every actress but Poots disrobes at some point. I was reminded of Steve Martin's bit about watching a Las Vegas revue: "Wow, look at the tits. There must be ... 57 tits up there." Here, on the one hand, it's a bit of a distraction; on the other hand, Winterbottom is not shying away from the sexism and misogyny that drove Raymond's business juggernaut. The director is making a point.

When we're asked to see that the emptiness of Raymond's empire becomes crushingly obvious to him, Coogan is a gifted enough actor to pull that off. I was moved by the film's final scenes. Coogan (expertly aged throughout the film) displays an impressive range. He shuns flash in favor of a more somber trudge through a privileged life built on exploitation.

In that sense, he and Winterbottom have made a powerful, if flawed, film.

GRADE: B

BONUS TRACKS

   Winterbottom films earning an A or A-minus:

• Wonderland
• Welcome to Sarajevo
• 24-Hour Party People
• In This World
• Road to Guantanamo
• 9 Songs
• Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story
• The Trip
• A Mighty Heart

   In the B range:

• Trishna
• The Killer Inside Me
• The Look of Love