Letters To Juliet

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I tried to come up with something clever to say here about Y chromosomes or testosterone, but (instead) opted for the simple truth: guys, there's nothing in this movie for us at all. You might want to just sit on the couch politely and quietly while someone of that Other Gender watches and, for all I know, enjoys it. Check to make sure your naughty bits are still in place afterwards.

(Or you can do what I did. The movie is rated PG for, among other things, "brief rude behavior". Try to spot it. Hint here)

Sophie (Amanda Seyfried) has a pretty good job as a magazine article fact checker, and a pretty fiancé ("Victor", Gael García Bernal). But she wants to be a Writer, and (obvious to us, not to her) Victor is more devoted to his trendy Manhattan restaurant than to her. They head off to Italy on a pre-honeymoon. In Verona, Sophie is captivated by the local tourist trap, the Casa Di Giulietta, Juliet's house. There's a balcony, and people (actually) leave letters for Juliet, which are picked up by …

Oh, never mind. The plot is contrived, but Sophie winds up traipsing all over the scenic Italian countryside with Vanessa Redgrave and her hunky grandson, looking for Redgrave's long-ago love. The grandson and Sophie initially despise each other. Gee, wonder what will happen there?

So that's another way for a guy to make this movie tolerable; try to figure out how many chick flick clichés you can spot coming. I only missed on one: I really thought they were going to have Redgrave's character kick the bucket, in order to Teach Sophie a Valuable Lesson about Following Your Heart Before It's Too Frickin' Late. But no.

Last Modified 2012-10-02 2:25 PM EDT