Very much a companion piece to Richard Quine's "Bell, Book & Candle" (1958), Terry Hughes' "The Butcher's Wife" (1991) is a cozy New York comedy about a compelling woman with what might be magical powers.
And like Gillian Holroyd, the seductive heroine of Quine's film, Demi Moore's Marina in "The Butcher's Wife" is something of a bohemian.
These two women are "different," unconventional. For one thing, they both favor walking around barefoot. It's no surprise that each one ends up among the denizens of Greenwich Village. Gillian, of course, is a witch. Marina is something more curious, possibly a landbound mermaid.
Marina is a clairvoyant from a tiny island off the North Carolina coast who makes her way to New York to meet the man for whom she is fated - a Greenwich Village butcher named Leo Lemke (George Dzundza). Or so she thinks. They marry almost insouciantly and Marina ensconces herself in his shop where she meets - and counsels - people from the neighborhood.
Her penchant for giving homespun, often unsolicited advice (mostly to women) attracts the attention of Dr. Alex Tremor (Jeff Daniels), the local psychiatrist whose clientele is identical to Leo's. (As I said, this is a very cozy Greenwich Village.) Among the characters who patronize both the butcher shop and the local shrink are a couple played by Frances McDormand and Margaret Colin (both terrific), and reliable Mary Steenburgen as a wannabe singer who seems more appropriate for Leo than Marina.
That's because Marina was really meant to be with ... Dr. Tremor.
The character of the ethereal Marina seems ready-made for Daryl Hannah but Moore, cast against type in an atypical soft role, is at once disarming and appealing and demonstrates remarkable chemistry with every other actor in the film - Daniels, Dzunda, Steenburgen, McDormand and Colin. It's a terrific cast that also includes Max Perlich as Leo's helper, veteran actresses Miriam Margoyles and Helen Hanft as two neighborhood snoops and the great cross-dressing actor-writer Charles Pierce in a quick bit.
Best of all, there's playwright Christopher Durang, a veritable scene-stealer, hands-down hilarious, as one of Alex's more confused patients.
In interviews at the time of the film's release, Daniels said he modeled his character on Jack Lemmon and, if you look closely, there are indeed a collection of subtle, astute Lemmonesque references in his winning performance.
George Dzunda is as endearing as ever (and what on earth ever happened to him?), while Mary Steenburger is a collection of adorable 'tics. She also gets to sing a sad, heartfelt version of Irving Berlin's singular "What'll I Do?" And any film that includes the strains of Stéphane Grappelli on the soundtrack is instantly a friend.
Sadly, "The Butcher's Wife" is Hughes' only theatrical film. He's better- known as a TV hand who has helmed many successful sitcoms, among them, "Friends," and, sadly, this background was seemingly used against him at the time of the film's release by status-conscious critics.
But Hughes also filmed many stage productions, often working in tandem with their original directors, among them two Stephem Sondheim musicals, "Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street," and "Sunday in the Park with George," as well as "Hughie," "Barnum," "The Gin Game," "I Do! I Do!" and Bruce Jay Friedman's controversial "Steambath." He's good.
I'd like to see Terry Hughes direct another film. He's way overdue. His charming debut movie, now nearly 25 years old, has panache to spare.