The director, Anand Tucker (Shopgirl), leaves things relatively uncluttered, which I appreciated. At the same time, I could have put that less generously — as in, not very much surprising happens. Tucker keeps the emerald travelogue images crisp and clean and the emotions modest, so that the entire movie hinges, more or less, on the charming/ cantankerous love-hate tangles of its dueling stars. If the young Ann-Margret had been allowed to wiggle her brain as much as her bod, she might have come off something like Amy Adams. Is there an actress today who can suffuse a single scene with so many infectious mood swings? As Anna, she's fiery and vulnerable, wistful and exuberant; she lends a rare dignity to the portrayal of a woman who doesn't know what she wants.
Anna believes she's going to sweep herself into happiness with her leap-year proposal, but Declan sees her grand folly, and also her designer-luggage pretensions. Goode, a deft but recessive actor (he's Colin Firth's lover-in-flashback in A Single Man), is an expert at soft-pedaled contempt. As Declan lets his guard down, though, the film's appealing tart-tongued fluffiness starts to flatten out. Leap Year could have used more pizzazz. Yet you're never in doubt that these two like each other — or, just as important, that they don't.
