I’m not one of those guys that tolerates Romantic Comedies just to keep his wife off his back…or the guy that has to suffer through another Chick Flick so he can finally get “his turn” picking the dvd on movie night.
I sincerely like rom coms.
There, I said it….and I’m not even embarrassed or anything.
That being said, what the fuck was up with HE’S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU?
The movie itself was okay-ish…a little long at 2 hours and 9 minutes…not great, but certainly not as fucking horrible as FAILURE TO LAUNCH (seriously, FTL is so bad it has become the Measuring Stick Of Total Fail for all romantic comedies viewed in Casa Canacorn).
My real problem is with Ken Kwapis.
Sure, he’s a competent director…and he obviously knows funny…but I’m convinced he’s just not that into hot chicks.
I know you’re all, “Wait a gosh durn minute, Canacorn! That movie is chock a block full of hot tail! Look at the cast: Scarlett Johansson, Jennifer Aniston, Jennifer Connelly, Ginnifer Goodwin, and Drew even though she’s a bit crooked faced Barrymore! Are you blind?”
No, I’m not blind…but about halfway through the movie I was convinced that the costume designer and the entire hair and makeup department must have been.
And then it hit me…it’s not their fault…it’s the director’s. He must ultimately shoulder the blame of being a total boner killer in what should have been a full on boner party in my pants area.
Look, it’s not like I expected a fucking flesh parade or anything, but the fashion prudery that was on display in this movie was a serious insult to my flaccid genitalia.
Would it kill somebody if these gals exposed a wrist or shoulder, for Christ’s sake?
The words dowdy, boring, drab and bland kept coming to mind.
And when we get some pops of color it’s all sky blue and orange with a splash of gray….WTF? Not only is the impact of this color combination tragic and uninspired…but I’m pretty sure that’s a fleece jacket from the 1980s.
Poor Ginnifer Goodwin got it the worst…I was convinced she must have been afflicted with some sort of erythematous maculopapular rash since she spent 95% of the film completely covered…they should have thrown a burqa on that bitch and called it a fucking day.
Another gripe I have with Mr. Kwapis and his obvious disdain for the female form was his excessive use of shooting the girls from the waist up. Did they even have legs? Were they wearing form fitting skirts? Tulip? Bubble? A-Line? Pencil? Who fucking knows?
And I’m no foot fetishist, but where were the goddamn shoes? Didn’t SEX AND THE CITY teach us anything about the importance of female footwear in cinema?
The only exception was Busy Phillips…she may have only had 10 minutes of screen time, but she made the best of it by flashing her beautiful wrists and stunning cleavage in a smart and simple little black dress.
You just can’t go wrong with that….am I right or am I right, Dr. Cosmo?