I have to say I am stunned by the number of rapturous reviews of this film. It is nothing but a lonely-Friday-night fantasy for 30-something single women, full of clichés, predictable jokes and paint-by-numbers plot turns. Take Annie Hall, change the point of view to the woman's, and give it a warm-and-fuzzy "happy ending." Oh, and while you're at it, get rid of all the charm, witty writing, surprises and ideas.
Jon Favreau struggles mightily to inject some unpredictability and edge into this film, but there's just no saving it. This is the cinematic equivalent of being licked by a golden retriever -- cute and warm for a minute or two, but leaves you feeling icky and in need of a wash.
Jon Favreau struggles mightily to inject some unpredictability and edge into this film, but there's just no saving it. This is the cinematic equivalent of being licked by a golden retriever -- cute and warm for a minute or two, but leaves you feeling icky and in need of a wash.