Love mostly for supermodels, actually

Rating: 5/10 (12 November 2003)

I was so ready to love this movie, and for much of the time I did-- it's very well shot and pretty well paced for a storyline this complicated. Everyone is charming, London looks very pretty, I'm a big ol' softy who loves romantic comedies. But... but...
About an hour in, it just started to get to me. What's with all the maximum-thirty-year-old supermodels with the forty-, fifty-, heck, sixty- something guys? What's with the bizzare beer-commercial fantasy sequences? All the women are in service jobs-- secretaries, housecleaners-- and all the men have cool boss jobs -- what's up with that? Why do the two normal-looking women end up being shafted, and not in a good way? Whose fantasy is this, anyways? It's not like I'm not aware that your avarage screenwriter is thinking-- what if my maid was an uberbabe, and bars were full of loose chicks in bustiers-- but it seemed to be all fantasy for the guys and all tough truth for the girls. Where was the hot-tub scene with Emma Thompson and three or four boytoys? Here I am, the classic demographic for this picture, a thirty-something woman, and the message I'm getting is-- sorry, lady, you're too old for Alan Rickman?!?
Boy, did I want to enjoy this movie, and while it was on I sort of did. But in the end it left me kind of depressed, and I'm pretty sure that's not what it was aiming for. I had to give this a five.