The more I think about this movie, the more annoyed I get. Written and directed by Susannah Grant, who did such a great job with Erin Brockovich, and starring the inimitable Jennifer Garner, this catch should have been a sparkling mid-winter release.
Ah, but good intentions and a good pedigree do not necessarily a good film make!
Heres the set-up. Jens fiancé dies on his bachelor party escapade. Shaken, she retreats to the bathroom, post-funeral, only to get caught hiding in the tub while boyfriends slick best friend shtoops a waitress over the sink. Naturally, in this glossy world of Hollywood love stories, he turns out to be Mr. Right, while said dead guy, it seems, was kind of Mr. Wrong.
Its not the Grant didnt try to make this one a bit more interesting. There is a funky edge to the proceedings that is appealing but all too quickly just doesnt hold up. Jen and her inherited family of fiances best buds are shocked to learn, posthumously, he had big bucks, but come on, guys, didnt anybody ever notice his moms mega-manse? And Boulder, the artsy setting for the proceedings, soon becomes a tangle of shoppes, breathtaking and secluded beaches and such a fabulous place even landlords add smiley faces to their rent due notices.
Garners indestructible charm is tested here, and dont even get me started on why Juliette Lewis keeps having to play quirky, but likeable, women with very short skirts. And, not that Im suspicious or anything, but isnt it convenient that the slick hunk who turned out to be not so bad just happens to live in an oh-so perfect house on the Malibu beach?
The only real spark of genuine surprise comes from Kevin Smith, stealing the show in his first substantial movie performance. His haunted good natured goof ball makes for the kind of friend who all know and, in truth, wish we all had.