Sigh. I love my best friend; she truly is the best foul weather friend you can have. She has my back all the way, but she like romantic comedies. Now, I do too. I admit I actually own a dvd copy of Return to Me (yes, the film about the heart transplant; it's the old people kvetching about the various merits of Dean Martin versus Sinatra that does it for me). But, I like romantic comedies to be less paint by numbers. (See the old people in Return to Me.) But my best friend will go see anything as long as it has a big enough star and her office will talk about it the next week. This is how I got stuck seeing He's Just Not that in to You (somewhere in there is a touching indie film about Ben Affleck and Jennifer Aniston's characters), and how I also got stuck seeing The Ugly Truth.
Chris Orr of the New Republic pretty much covers all the bases here, but I think he gives the film too little time. I say that because I think he's right about how much more sexist this film is than Knocked Up, a film I still found sexist (really, did Leslie Mann's character have to be a shrill harridan), but also funny. I think this kind of vilification of career women as both inept and stupid, for lack of a better term, for looking for more in a mate is part of a growing trend of romantic comedies aimed at both genders. Katherine Heigl's Abby is a horrific, narcisstic control freak. It's Bridget Jones on acid with a successful career thrown in. Abby's success as a producer--an astute ability to read situations as well as what an audience wants--does not translate into her personal life in any other way except for her being a micromanaging control freak. In other words, because she's successful professional, she can't be successful in a relationship. Apparently, what makes Abby good at her job--an eye for detail--makes her horrible for relationships, which just makes no sense at all. It's like she's too different characters. I'm sure there's a lot of humor to be found in the oftentimes conflicting messages women receive about where to place their priorities; this movie just doesn't provide any of that humor.
At least we've stopped the pummeling of male leads in romantic comedies, a trend that irked me to no end. Why on earth do producers think people want to see a male romantic lead utterly berated, demoralized, and emasculated? I'm looking at you Ben Stiller. I didn't mind the stereotyping of Mike as a boorish male quite so much, in part because we get a little information about why he's so boorish--a string of bad relationships--and we see him as a decent father figure to his nephew. It's faint praise to be sure, and despite the depth Gerard Butler milks out of the character (helped by Craig Ferguson), Mike is almost as flat as Abby. But with no explanation for Abby's split character, it's impossible for Katherine Heigel to do anything with the role except stand there and read lines while in great clothes. The end exchange is the only place the movie can go because there is absolutely no character development, meaning that there is no reason for these two people to wind up together. "I have no goddamn idea" is the only thing the film can offer. Where's a copy of Bringing Up Baby, Roman Holiday, or even Return to Me when you need it?
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