People are usually passionate about things they like, but Kulani and I can be rather passionate about things we hate. Recently, we saw a movie together that honestly could be filed under the "Worst Movie EVVVVEEERRR" category. Before this time, Kulani thought Hope Floats was the worst movie he'd ever seen, and he wasn't quiet about sharing it with people. (Let's just say a few of my friends were personally insulted because they count Hope Floats as one of their favorites, and they felt that disliking it was like disliking their kids.) But this one surpassed it, or rather, underpassed it. It's called The Wedding Date, and if you're like me and watch movies to see for yourself whether it really is that bad, be aware that I warned you. Highlighting just a few of the stupid parts is difficult because the sum and parts of it were just dumb. As we discussed why we both hated it so much, Kulani described that it was like a teacher asked a group of junior high girls to write a movie script that would be entertaining, cute, and sweet, and the group of girls tried to put in every idea possible about break-ups, marriage, and romantic ideas.
I can't believe I'm even taking the time to add a picture of this movie to this blog; the movie definitely doesn't warrant a picture post. I don't know how someone could get the formula for "chick flicks" so wrong, but they did. On the TV show Top Chef, the judging chefs are fond of saying, "If you taste it and it's not good, don't serve it." They shouldn't have served that movie after watching it, or perhaps they didn't bother watching it before serving it. It's two hours of my life I'll never get back, and now I'm wasting another half hour blogging about it. I personally like the acting abilities of Deborah Messing, but this was awful. And the lead guy character, Dermot Mulroney, is just plain bad. The writing for his part was awful, and his acting was worse. His character was essentially a male prostitute. For me, one of the dumbest lines of the movies was when he and Deborah Messing are lying down on the bed (clothes on) talking, and he says to her, "I'm allergic to fabric softener. I majored in comparative literature at Brown. I hate anchovies. And I think I'd miss you even if we never met." I'm thinking, "Who the heck thought it would be clever to throw in that he majored in comparative literature at Brown?" Maybe I could believe SUNY, but Brown? That just seems snobby for snobby sake.
So why didn't we turn off the movie and just go to sleep? It was like a train wreck. We couldn't believe how unbelievably bad the movie was. We kept waiting for it to get better. And unlike some movies that you stop watching because you think your soul is going to hell (see American Psycho, for example, if you can stomach watching the whole thing, which we could not), this one felt more like trying to figure out a jugsaw puzzle that had a bunch of other puzzle pieces from other puzzles mixed in. So Hope Floats, you are not the biggest loser.