Considering I'm the sort of guy who sees shoes as purely functional and tries to match them with what I'm wearing only when absolutely necessary, I don't get the obsession with footwear. That's particularly true for the sorts of people who have hundreds of pairs, sometimes enough not to wear the same ones twice in a calendar year, not that you would since most would probably be out of style by then.
Yes, I'm familiar with the saying that the first thing one notices about people is their shoes, but I have a feeling that only really applies to the aforementioned fanatics. Or people who work in the footwear business such as Charlie Price. The fourth generation of his family to be involved in manufacturing men's shoes, he's had the notion that the most beautiful thing in the world is shoes drilled into his head probably since before he could lace up his own.
Yet, he doesn't want to follow his father in the business (symbolically noted by him wearing a pair of ratty tennies), but just as soon as he and his fiancée have moved away, his father -- as luck or at least cinematic storytelling would have it -- kicks the bucket (pun fully intended). Inheriting the floundering company and feeling awful when he has to start sacking the employees, he gets a potential reprieve in the most unlucky of places and from a most unlikely savior.
And thus with a drunken and unintentional viewing of a cabaret style drag show in a local establishment, "Kinky Boots" kick starts its story where shoes are the thing, both plot-wise and thematically. Reportedly based on a true story, the film comes courtesy of director Julian Jarrold and writers Geoff Deane and Tim Firth, the latter of whom previously penned "Calendar Girls," another of those "feel good" British dramedies along the lines of "The Full Monty" and "Waking Ned Devine."
They all follow the same plot gist of ordinary working folk getting a kick in the tuckus of life (the catalyst) and then deciding to change their life-plan for the better (that being the purpose), all leading to a happy ending of some sort (the payoff for them and the viewer). This one's no different, with our protagonist -- played by Joel Edgerton who occasionally looks like a subdued version of Conan O'Brien -- meeting a drag queen -- that being a terrific Chiwetel Ejiofor -- with a big shoe (or, to be accurate, boot) problem.
The two decide they can help each other and -- after overcoming a variety of obstacles -- deal with their own and each other's personal issues and thus become better people along the way. And it includes a big drag queen invasion at a fashion show as a bit of icing on the cake. All of which means the tears of joy, pathos and even a bit of zaniness flow forth -- at least in theory.
In execution, however, the film doesn't fly off the shelf like a pair of Air Jordans, although it's certainly no kick in the seat of one's pants to sit through. Instead, it's a pleasant enough diversion that's pretty much instantly forgettable thanks to its overall mediocrity, but what makes the film work just enough is Ejiofor as the aging drag queen. He's always been a terrific if underused actor (see "Dirty Pretty Things" for a terrific performance), and he takes a tired movie stereotype and breathes some fresh air into the usual trappings.
Edgerton is okay as the protagonist, but the blandness of the character -- presumably purposeful on the part of the writers --- doesn't do the film any favors. His is a likeable enough character, and you want him to succeed, but his milquetoast nature pretty much makes him disappear into the woodwork. More noticeable and colorful is Nick Frost as the usual boorish lout, but he goes through the expected and predictable character transformation in the film's third act once he realizes what a good guy his new boss really is.
As far as the real ladies are concerned (as compared to the guys in drag), Sarah-Jane Potts is cute as the employee and potential love interest, but nothing much comes of that. Meanwhile, Jemima Rooper is the usual uppity girlfriend who's so obviously wrong for the protagonist that you never believe their relationship is anything more than a cinematic construct to provide some strife and drama.
Somewhat cute, occasionally amusing, but only moderately engaging, the film never really kicks into high gear. As a result, you probably won't mind the offering -- especially if those aforementioned British dramedies are your cup of tea -- but you'll probably forget most all of it, except for Ejiofor doing a fun little bit of "Whatever Lola wants...Lola gets" while in full drag. If only the whole film were as colorful. "Kinky Boots" rates as a 5 out of 10.
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