I’m not sure about the shoes — something about their satin shinyness screams David’s Bridal to me.
But otherwise, this is elegant and fun. Amy Adams is guilty of slipping into a rut of tedium — boring shapes, half-hearted fit, forgettable aura. This is a party dress. It’s big and it’s flattering and it’s the type of thing a girl puts on and never forgets the day she wore it: who she met, how she sat, what she ate, how she negotiated the restroom, which dark corners she snuck to for a euphoric twirl. I approve.