Claire Danes and Steve Martin

The older man and younger woman love affair gains new life and heartbreak in Shopgirl, director Anand Tucker's bittersweet adaptation of Steve Martin's 2000 novella. Martin has been making people laugh long enough to recently earn the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor, a celebration of his impressive career that overlooked recent family comedies like Cheaper By The Dozen and Bringing Down the House.

Shopgirl is a worthy celebration of Martin's creative diversity. He adapted his well-reviewed novella into a competent screenplay for Tucker. He produced the film and also plays the lead character, wealthy fiftysomething Ray Porter, a character that syncs with public perceptions of him as a man about culture. Shopgirl has as much to do with Martin as essayist, novelist and playwright as the clownish actor everyone loves. In fact, the wild and crazy guy of years past is missing from Shopgirl. The character in his place is richer, smarter and more satisfying, capable of generating heartfelt emotions never before experienced in a Martin movie.

Mirabelle Butterfield (Claire Danes) is a bright young woman from rural Vermont who relocates to Los Angeles. She's an emerging artist who draws at her kitchen table but makes a living working at the glove counter at Saks Fifth Avenue in Beverly Hills. Mirabelle is not in despair, but she's lonely and jumps at the chance for a night out with Jeremy (Jason Schwartzman), a slackerish hipster with little money whom she met at a Laundromat near her home.

Jeremy might be too disorganized and childish for a relationship, but his older competitor for Mirabelle's affections isn't much better. Ray is a computer executive with a private personal life. He buys an expensive pair of gloves from Mirabelle at Saks and then sends them to her in the mail as a gift and invitation for a date. Ray is smart, cultured and quick to lavish Mirabelle with expensive gifts. He also struggles with intimacy, leaving Mirabelle to wonder what's best for her own happiness.

Tucker doesn't have the name recognition of his cast, but he claims a good directing job to his credit, 1998's sibling drama Hilary and Jackie. He captures the spirit of Los Angeles in a smooth overhead tracking shot of its freeways at the beginning of the film. Mirabelle, Jeremy and Ray claim one of the largest cities in the world as their home, which only makes it easier to feel utterly alone.

Shaggy pup Schwartzman plays one type repeatedly in films, the lovable wayward soul, but he performs it to perfection. He looks the part of Jeremy: T-shirt, worn jeans, constant stubble on his chin and greasy hair. Better yet, he claims the nervous glances and jagged speech of someone uncomfortable around women, because he's still unsure about himself. Asked by Mirabelle, "Are you the type of person it takes time to know and once you get to know them they're fabulous?" Jeremy doesn't know how to answer.

Martin is calm, handsome, confident and a little too serene as Porter. His best moments are the everyday lifestyle gestures that reveal the generation and economic gaps between him and working-class Mirabelle. While she chats about Ray over a lunch break with a girlfriend, he discusses Mirabelle with his therapist. Ray treats her like a pretty treasure he picked up on the beach, something he loves but can discard if need be. Martin has played subdued and serious roles before (Grand Canyon, The Spanish Prisoner) but he has never displayed such sadness and romantic longing. His previous California romance, L.A. Story, is fleeting compared to Shopgirl. Only Roxanne, Martin's best film, matches Shopgirl in matters of the heart.

The film's talented men can claim more screen time, but the delicate Danes holds the heart of the movie in her wide, wanting eyes. She is full of wistful looks and thin-lipped smiles, a beguiling object of affection, pretty enough to capture the attention of both a wealthy, middle-aged man and a twentysomething slacker with few possessions. She's all ears when her hair is pulled back to emphasize scarlet lips complementing her red hair. She has an afterglow that's all her own and an awkwardness that helps explain her loneliness.

Danes follows up her likable performance in last year's period romance Stage Beauty with another role tailored to her lovely shyness. Since her TV work in the short-lived series My So-Called Life and her breakout role in the film William Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet, Danes has become a fixture for romantic longing. It's impossible not to love her.

Yet by Shopgirl's conclusion -- in a scene that earns comparison to another generational romance, Lost in Translation -- Danes reveals the necessity of lost love in order to love again. She is the film's face of heartbreak and healing, but it's Martin's words and storytelling that bring her to life. Grade: B