“With few exceptions, Marshall presents each star at the maximum of his or her talents; in the few precious moments when Roberts owns the screen, she also owns the whole movie.” -Leslie Gornstein, E! Online
“With few exceptions, Marshall’s film was like being beaten unconscious and mouth-fucked by studio execs while having Cupid’s bow shoved up your ass.” -K.G. MadMan, DEEP THOUGHTS of GREAT IMPORTANCE!
I know I’m not the target demographic for romantic comedies. But there are ones I’ve sat through that weren’t intolerable: “Love, Actually” with its sincerity, or “Sex and the City” with its distinct tone. This being Valentine’s Day, I decided to bite my tongue when my wife suggested that she’d like to go see a “date movie”. Meanwhile, across the country, millions of other men were being lead into this trap. “It’s Sunday, it’s Valentine’s Day, what movie should we go see? Oh look, a movie made for Valentine’s Day!”
Let me make this perfectly clear: this was, without a doubt, the biggest piece of shit I’ve ever suffered through. Not once during the two hours I spent being flagellated by this film was there a moment of sincerity, originality, or authenticity. This was the absolute worst fucking wretch that Hollywood has to offer. Crass, cynical, greed-driven hack gruel served in a heart-shaped shitter for Valentine’s Day. I can only imagine that the script was written using cut-outs from old Charles In Charge scripts that were pieced together like those ransom notes kidnappers leave. “g-R-a-N-D-p-a, w-E-R-e y-O-u E-v-E-R i-N l-O-v-E?”
And if you happen to like Anne Hathaway, Jennifer Garner, or Jamie Foxx, you spent most of this abomination cringing at how low these talents were forced to sink. Watching Hathaway attempt comedy as a personal assistant moonlighting as a Russian phone sex operator was like watching your drunk friend attempt stand-up at an open mic night. I wanted to reach into this film so I could grab her by the arm and growl “you’re embarassing me” while dragging her off the set.
Here were my biggest grievances:
1. Constant in-jokes about Los Angeles
2. Endless sight gags
3. Julia Roberts
4. Kooky ethnic humor
5. A “What We Learned” moment (there were four… maybe five)
6. An airport chase scene
7. Ashton Kutcher
8. Best friends realizing they’re in love (Imagine that!)
9. Peope who just met saying “I love you” after spending a fucking day together, goddammit are you kidding me???
10. Every scene ending with a “CUT TO” of extras making bad jokes about what they just watched our characters do
In a way, “Valentine’s Day” may be the perfect adaptation of the holiday. It’s a contrived, pointless exercise in meaningless utterances and mistaking actual love for shallow gestures. Both were developed by marketing teams, and I’m pretty sure that like those Valentine’s Cards you get from friends, both will end up in a trash receptacle come Tuesday. The people who made this film should have their genitals surgically attached to their heads so they can be recognized in public for the fuck-faces they are. They should apologize to the male population of planet Earth who were swindled into this fucking cesspool by their trickery and multicultural, multi-aged, multi-demographic casting which ensured that all men would equally have to share in this fucking misery.
I have nothing more to say. Here are some quotes from candy bar punks who actually gave this dildo positive press:
“It accomplishes what it sets out to do. That is, it puts a smile on your face and leaves you reaching for the hand of your significant other.” -Mike Scott, Times-Picayune
“The running time is 125 minutes, a lot for a romantic comedy, but the minutes fly by.” -Mike LaSalle, San Francisco Chronicle
“Garry Marshall delivers a well-balanced romantic comedy that delivers the laughs and a classic Shirley MaClain scene. Though, the film needed to lose about twenty minutes.” -Kevin McCarthy, BDK Reviews