I've just seen the worst romantic comedy I've suffered through in a very, very, very long time. Omigod, it blew, it sucked, and I kept checking my wrist, despite knowing I hadn't worn a watch. Guys, I'm giving you a heads-up here: if your woman wants to see this, pass! PASS! PASS, I TELL YOU!!! Tell her it sounds like "a great movie for you and your friends to see!" You, on the other hand, might go blind, as you put your thumbs through your eye sockets, somewhere in Hour Two of this shite. I have "guys taste" in interior design and movies, trust me.
So much dripping sugar and saccharine enveloped this wretched piece of cinema, I wasn't sure if I was going to go into a diabetic coma or die like a Canadian lab rat. In fact, I may have to find an episode of "Hitler's War Machines" or "Monster Garage" or one of the tattoo shows just to cleanse my palate of sweetness.
Look, I'm a single woman, and, even if I am a horrid, horrid failure at relationships, love, and all that good stuff, I still have to find a little romance in my life, right? This afternoon, I tried by taking myself to see "The Holiday." Jeezus Christmas, it was a stinker. At one point in the treaclefest, I actually said out loud, "Oh god, stop the cuteness!" and some guy two rows back sniggered loudly. At least I wasn't alone in my pain.
Here's the deal: Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet play women who have just gotten out of bad relationships and switch houses (a huge LA monster pad and a modest, cutesy Suffolk cottage) for Christmas. Being a practical woman - and unable to willingly suspend my disbelief for this load of crap, I was astounded that Winslet's character, who writes the wedding announcements for a London paper, was able to cough up the cash for a last minute flight from London to L.A. for this trip. Must be a helluva nice paper to offer that kind of salary!
Cameron Diaz plays a producer of movie trailers in L.A. To be kind, I'll simply say, Ms. Diaz ain't exactly believable in this role.
Really not believable.
Throughout the movie, she hears her life played out in her head, complete with movie trailer announcer guy voiceovers, like a GEICO commercial. Within six hours of arriving at this quaint English cottage, she screws Winslet's drunk brother, played by Jude Law, who phones this performance in like he's on a bad cell connection. Jack Black plays Winslet's unlikely romance in Los Angeles, and, while I loves me some Jack, good god, is he ever miscast.
But, seriously, the worst part of this nightmare (besides the $7.50 matinee ticket price and the 2-hour+ length!!!) was the inane dialog. Honest to god, a stoned chimp with a headcold and only one typewriter could have written better, less schmaltzy stuff.
Guess you can tell I didn't dig this, huh?
I love movies. I really do. But I'm not a sophisticated moviegoer. I'm not likely to go to a festival of obscure foreign film just because it will expand my mind...
"Ahhhh, the lingonberries are ripe."
"Yes. Ripe. Ripe. Ripe with life."
"The lingonberries burst with life!"
I just love adventure films, comedies, sci-fi, good drama, and really good romance.
"The Holiday" does not fit that last category. This is, I'm pretty certain, the worst romance I've seen since "Autumn in New York" (on cable) or "Sweet November" (which I only went to see because my friend Heather had the hots for Jason Isaacs and I'd had two HUGE margaritas...)
Actually, a really huge margarita might help now. And something on the History Channel... It's Sunday afternoon - I'm sure WWII is in full swing right about now...