Two Netflix grievances: their algorithm originally predicted I'd like this a lot, giving it nearly four stars, enough to put it at the top of the queue.
But shortly after they sent it to me (and, I assume, after other peoples' ratings started coming in), that high rating started dropping; Netflix now awards it 2.8 stars, which is close to my "don't bother" point. Arrgh.
My other gripe is Netflix's "Genres" for the movie:
Comedies, Independent Movies, Romantic Movies, Romantic Comedies, Independent Comedies, Romantic Independent MoviesI assume the "Independent Movies" classification is correct. But it's not funny, and the closest it gets to romance is one character's long-running adolescent infatuation with another, and the other character's eventual, brief, ill-considered reciprocation.
Jenna Fischer, sweet, sunny Pam from The Office, plays Laura. Laura is not sweet or sunny; she's whiny, self-pitying, and prone to tantrums. Any love that may have existed in her marriage is draining away. Thanks to parental dysfunction, her son is fat, obnoxious, and dishonest. Her mom is a bossy shrew, her sister is a nagging bitch. Her dental hygienist career is unrewarding. She has an unfortunate Marlboro Light habit (which she lies about) and an overfondness for Budweiser. And then her husband kicks the bucket under unusual circumstances. A frothy laff riot, right?
But: Why should I care? The movie never provided a good reason.
Dion—yes, Dion DiMucci himself—has a brief cameo, playing guitar and singing the blues. A brief bright spot in a long lousy movie.