From The Post-Standard
'Casanova' Role Right for Ledger
Monday, January 09, 2006
JOAN E. VADEBONCOEUR
ENTERTAINMENT COLUMNIST


"Casanova" makes merry and many other things in Lasse Hallstrom's picturesque romp of a movie that is considerably enlivened by Heath Ledger in the title role of the legendary lover.

By his own count, the book of 100 pages he's writing equals the number of women he has bedded since puberty. He flashes back to tell the adventurous, romantic and dangerous time in which found the love of his life. Naturally, she would not be one of those fawning over him from whom he had to disentangle himself without losing a limb or his life. It was a woman lawyer (Sienna Miller), whose quest for her sex's liberation went against his views of women as objects to be conquered.

But when the law, creditors or religious prelates come calling, Casanova does have aides - the Venice doge (Tim McInnerny) and his trusty servant, Lupo (Omid Dialili). Yet Casanova's wit does as much to keep him from prison as all their machinations.

Things do look dim for the lover as the film begins. He's ordered out of Venice unless he can marry and stay out of scandal. Pretty virgin Victoria couldn't be more pleased about his proposal. Her lust is palpable. But Casanova's eyes fasten on the lawyer Francesca. She is engaged to a pork lard merchant (Oliver Platt) who, on arrival, turns out to be quite representative of the product he sells.

More disguises and ruses, all in the name of life, limb and love, ensue. One especially amusing subplot involves Francesca's mother, Andrea (Lena Olin), a widow not content yet to wrap herself in mothballs.

Detailing them further would spoil the fun. Just let it be noted that the screenplay delivers more cases of mistaken identity than a Moliere farce.

Ledger is dashing, romantic, daring, scheming . . . in short, everything his character was reported to be - and maybe more, since he apparently gains a conscience at the end. Miller is a beauty, to be sure, but she's only a middling actress. Gwyneth Paltrow would have been a better choice, particularly in the two scenes where she's fooling men into believing she's one of them.

Rarely has Platt had such a juicy role, and he makes the most of his part with a bloated, egotistical, easily duped portrait. Jeremy Irons, as the stupid inquisitor who wants all targets hanged, has to resort to hamming in order to command attention. Or, perhaps, it was simply that he wanted to demonstrate he could play comedy.