Made of Honor

May 3, 2008

A word of warning: You can often tell by the title design of a film — the way the name of the movie, and its credits, are displayed during the opening sequence — what kind of movie it’s going to be. For example, a horror movie might be more scary if its credits are particularly creepy and well done.

But, it’s safe to say, if the movie you’re watching has a sequence in which the title, and all of the actor’s names, break up into little sparkles and flowers, then scatter across the screen, you should probably run. Run very, very fast.

And that’s exactly how the title design plays out in this week’s girlie adventure Made of Honor, which stars Patrick Dempsey and Michelle Monaghan, who, disappointingly, lays there on the screen like a dead fish — a far cry from her sexy-cool performance in Shane Black’s underrated Kiss Kiss Bang Bang.

Instead of lighting up the screen and validating her role as the object of Robert Downey Jr.’s violent affection in the latter film, her flatlining character in Made of Honor seems more a metaphor for the larger failings of the film. Despite what it’s sugary title sequence might suggest, the film isn’t over-the-top, nor does it present most of the absurdities that the endless parade of romantic comedies do, month in and month out.

It’s just kind of… boring.

The film’s main character, for some reason, is Tom — a womanizing playboy who became incredibly wealthy by inventing those little cardboard sleeves that they put around your cup at Starbucks. Of course Tom the playboy only gets to be a playboy for the first ten minutes of the film. After that, his best friend Hannah (Monaghan) flies to Scotland for work. Seeing what his life is like without her companionship, this devil-may-care bachelor realizes that he really, really wants to get married. To her.

But don’t roll those eyes just yet, audience. Patrick Dempsey is a decent actor, and you really don’t notice the absurdity of his character because he’s one of those “charming” sorts of womanizers… you know, the ones women apparently dream of marrying.

Hannah comes back, bum bum bummm, engaged, and it becomes Tom’s mission to convince her that he’s the right man for her, not her new beau. And her new beau also happens to be Scottish royalty, and otherwise “the perfect man,” in increasingly humorous ways. (That is, if you think being able to dunk a basketball is humorous. Don’t ask.)

The second half of the film takes place in Scotland and feels entirely unnecessary. That’s because it is. And while those moments where you roll your eyes are actually very scarce as far as sugary, mass-marketed romances go, the film made up for it by still being predictable, and worse: boring.

Let us pray that most of the audience finds their true love far more interesting than watching this film was.

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