ALL ABOUT ALFIE
October 30, 2004
By Tralee Pearce

A lot has changed since 1966, when Michael Caine played the quintessential lady-killer. The remake stars Jude Law in sample-sale Gucci. Look out, ladies: The cad is back, Tralee Pearce writes, only now he’s a metrosexual

In the opening scene of the new Jude Law remake of Alfie, the smug womanizer rolls out of bed, peruses his closet and announces to the camera, “I’m a bit of a fashion whore.”

He wears a suit by cultish Belgian designer Martin Margiela and a chic New Year’s Eve ensemble by Savile Row sensation Oswald Boateng. Top that off with a limo driver’s cap tilted just so, and the latest 1960s accessory to make a comeback — the Vespa — and Law is the consummate millennial lady-killer.

Indeed, as the tanned, tousled-haired babe goes on to show off his Gucci sample-sale suit and his pink YSL shirt, the key difference between the cad played in the 1966 version of Alfie, which starred Michael Caine, and this one, opening next Friday, is clear: the clothing.

“We wanted the new Alfie to be a fashionista, into the superficiality of clothes,” the film’s director, Charles Shyer, says from San Francisco.

“He’s all about surface and image.”

While both Alfies are unabashedly skirt-chasing British limo drivers who blithely motor through romantic trysts with willing women only to hit a moral wall at the film’s end, Law’s wardrobe of chic neo-Sixties designer duds is a far cry from Caine’s real-Sixties London tweeds.

His manners have undergone a little polish too. Caine’s coldhearted affinity for calling his conquests It, his abandonment of his child and his arrangement of a seedy abortion are gone, replaced by a seemingly benign metrosexuality.

“Michael Caine’s Alfie couldn’t get a date today, much less get laid,” Shyer says.

Though he is not as nasty as his predecessor, this year’s Alfie is still a player, breaking hearts all over town. It’s just that Law’s Alfie knows better than to insult women. He is, quite literally, undercover. Look out, ladies: These days, the clothes make the cad.

And, man, if I were Marisa Tomei, Sienna Miller, Susan Sarandon or any of the other ladies who are wooed during the film, I’d fall for it too.

Fashion insiders will be particularly vulnerable to Law’s various charms. Shyer was keen to keep a British 1960s feeling in the movie, although it takes place in modern-day New York City.

Although there isn’t much of his stuff in the movie, Shyer was aiming for a “whole Paul Smith vibe,” referring to the dandy British designer. (Three original Mick Jagger tunes in the score drive that point home.)

“For Alfie, I liked the whole look of Sixties movies like A Hard Day’s Night, and I like skinny ties and slim suits,” Shyer says.

“But Jude’s whole rationale was, not having much money, Alfie would go to the end-of-season sale. Often, they won’t have a 40 or a 42, so he’d take the 38, so they look tight on him. That’s why Jude thought he was wearing tight suits. I thought it was because they looked great.”

Law himself was instrumental in conceiving the wardrobe, along with costume designer Beatrix Pasztor (Good Will Hunting, Drugstore Cowboy) and Shyer, a self-confessed fashion whore himself. (“I don’t go to sample sales; I go to Gucci and try to get a discount. That’s how tragic I am,” he confesses.)

It didn’t hurt that the British-born Law has a certain Euro flair for dressing.

“Jude’s a bold dresser himself. He wears scarves and knows how to throw things together. If you dressed like that in Los Angeles, you’d be too dandy. Everyone here plays it safe,” Shyer says.

And even when he’s dressed down, it’s in trendy Rogan jeans, not Levi’s.

To drive home the new Alfie, there’s a scene with “semi-permanent-quasi-sort-of-girlfriend” Julie (Marisa Tomei), in which Law turns to the camera and admits that he doesn’t think she has enough of the superficial things that matter.

In a couple of scenes — including a threesome with two lovely ladies — you’ll notice his clothes folded neatly in a stack, not tossed off in abandon, which is a nod to his modest bank account.

“That’s another thing Jude wanted to be certain of,” Shyer says. “That there wasn’t an over-abundance of things. He takes care of everything because he doesn’t have that much.”

So, in another scene, a piece of clothing takes on a role as motif. Alfie is realizing that his new flame, the sexy, Julie-Christie-like party girl Nikki (Sienna Miller) is cracking up. He comes home to find her painting the apartment bright blue — while wearing his precious pink shirt. “It’s his favourite shirt and she’s painting in it and ruining it. For him, that shirt was probably a half a week’s salary, so it’s important to him.”

Shyer says there was no chance that the clothing in Alfie was going to be made by a no-name team — designer labels are not only key to the character, but also to our times.

“Places like Banana Republic and Top Shop and Top Man in Britain have made good taste affordable. You have no excuse to wear a Boogie Till You Puke T-shirt. Maybe it’s good; maybe it’s bad. Maybe we’re into the fall of the Roman Empire.”

Of course, that’s the state of Alfie’s psyche by the end of the film. Like Caine’s Alfie before him, Law’s character winds up wondering “what’s it all about” after the consequences of his licentious ways slap him in the face.

During this period of the film, the colour gets bluer, Law dresses down in sweater layers and jeans (those Rogans) and he looks, well, less golden and clean-cut.

It’s a handy visual short form for what’s going on. Shyer says the whole movie is a cautionary tale for all the metrosexual cads out there. Even if your emotional choices don’t, your deft fashion sense will do you in.

“In this movie, it’s Alfie’s job to get laid. At his age, he’s at the cusp of it not being so attractive any more. And if you’re 40 and wearing the little hat, and just wanting to get laid, it’s a bit tragic.”