I cannot even review this for fear that it will haunt me.  If formula can kill a piece of celluloid, it has done it here.  The story of a college grad not getting all she wants in profession and love is barely existent, and hence the film stuffs itself with kooky side characters.  Weird little brother? Check.  Start-up-biz-obsessed dad?  Check.  Lively Grandma ready for death? Check.  When screenwriter Kelly Fremon reaches hell (I think she’s sealed the deal for herself with this), for her it will be Robert McKee thumping her head forever with a copy of Story.  It’s my guess that director Vicky Jenson (yes, she of “Shrek”) has blinded herself for a good year.  Poor Michael Keaton as the pops needs some career resuscitation.  I know times are hard and money talks, but he may have to account for this when he heads to the pearly gates.  And Carol Burnett’s overconstructed Frankenface just shouldn’t be casted across the big screen.  (We love you, Car, but come on, be kind.) And Alexis Bledel, the cute “Gilmore Girl” now grown up, has talent, which we can see convulsing and turning blue from this film’s Strychnine. 

Girly, you don’t know how fucked you are.

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Posted by Matthew Sorrento in Writer's Corner