MOTHER OF THE BRIDE – Review by Susan Granger
Whatever happened to the light, frothy romantic comedy? Major studios aren’t making them anymore but some of the streamers, like Netflix, are trying.
Brooke Shields stars in Mother of the Bride, playing Dr. Lana Winslow, a world-renowned geneticist/single mother whose grown daughter Emma (Miranda Cosgrove) returns a day early from a trip abroad to declare she’s decided to get married in Phuket, Thailand.
Used to being in charge, judgmental-yet-supportive Lana realizes that she must take a backseat during this lavish ‘destination’ wedding which is being bankrolled by the ‘lifestyle’ social media company that ‘influencer/wannabe brand ambassador’ Emma works for.
But then Lana discovers that Emma’s fiancé RJ (Sean Teale) is the son of Will (Benjamin Bratt), the man who broke her heart back when they were in college.
Lana’s still hurt by Will’s ghosting her years ago, so she manages to physically maim him as often as possible. There are predictable pratfalls, parental rivalries, confidences exchanged by Lana’s horny, hard-partying sister Janice (Rachael Harris) and sassy gay chums (Wilson Cruz, Michael McDonald), plus a brief interlude with Lucas (Chad Michael Murray), a hunky young doctor smitten with Lana.
Meanwhile, Emma juggles her mom’s angst with the stress of dealing with Camela (Tasneem Roc), the authoritative corporate ‘brand manager’ who’s snagged a five-figure wedding dress from “the next Vera Wang” and centerpieces from the vendor “who did Meghan and Harry’s wedding.”
Written by Robin Bernheim Burger (The Princess Switch trilogy) and directed by Mark Walters (Mean Girls), there should have been many opportunities for satiric screwball comedy – reminiscent of Julia Roberts/George Clooney’s Ticket to Paradise – but, instead, it’s an unmitigated disaster.
Instead of wry, observational humor about falling in love ‘the second time around” and the toxic effect of Instagram/commodification of meaningful rituals like weddings, these superficially ‘pretty people’ are all bland, underdeveloped stereotypes, and each shallow, awkward scene turns out to be more predictable than the one preceding it.
On the Granger Gauge of 1 to 10, “Mother of the Bride” is a flimsy, forgettable 3, streaming on Netflix.
