We’ve been a little spoiled over the past two weeks as cinema-goers. First Inception came along and not only lived up to, but surpassed every high, drooling, Nolan-worshipping, fanboy expectation. Then Pixar did what Pixar do, in the form of Toy Story 3. An instant masterpiece. Both hilarious and touching, the finale for Woody and co was everything film fans could possibly hope for.
Now it would seem we’re being punished for it. “Two exceptional movies in a row? We’ll have to see about that,” cries Hollywood, and the dirge floodgate is re-opened. First out of the sewer is a new low in cinema, the Catherine Zeta-Jones rom-com, The Rebound.
CJZ plays Sandy, recently seperated from her husband because he prefered to get blowjobs from her friend than listen to her sing karaoke. If that’s the only option, there’s not a man reading this that wouldn’t concur. What follows is a 95-minute long version of the BT adverts ‘starring’ Kris Marshall.
And yes, it’s every bit as bad as that sounds. The only saving grace being that Kris Marshall himself isn’t in it. Instead we have Justin Bartha (best known for out-retarding Ben Affleck in Gigli) playing young love interest Aram Finklestein. Wow, I wonder if that guy’s Jewish?
The most striking thing about this unfunny mess of a movie is that it will invariably turn any sane thinking man into a Jim Davidson apologist, such is the selfishness and downright horrible nature of the lead character. She sees her new-found freedom as a chance to scream and get pissed and fuck young boys. At no point does she try to make her impending divorce palatable to her kids in any way.
Then there’s the “Oh we’re in movie world, we can get away with anything” plot strands. So Sandy goes on dates with men who halfway through a romantic evening go for shits in portaloos (a joke that’s stretched out for about 10 minutes) and when she’s looking for a job she finds a top-class, highly paid writing gig within two fecking seconds, because in ‘this’ movie world people get offered top-class, highly paid writing gigs, willy fecking nilly (I’m not bitter).
Not that it doesn’t attempt realism. BT boys line upon learning he’s just knocked up CZJ (who knows a thing or two about queasy age gaps in relationships) is the hugely misplaced, “But I usually pull out!”. It’s examples such as this that make The Rebound such a new low in what the silver screen can do.
In terms of classic cinema romantic comedies we’ve gone from It Happened One Night to I Can’t Believe They Made This Shite in under 80 years. As a wise man once said, “Makes me sick how far we done fell.”