Far fetched but surprisingly unpretentious.
Contrived but timely in a wish-it-was-The Quiet Man sort of a way.
Amy Adams attempts to prove to this world of romantics such as myself that it truly IS the cocky, overly-sensitive, high-maintenance perfectionists who get the hot, manly, foreign guys after all. So, if you don't mind feeding yourself this lie for 2 hours of frosted chick-flick indulgence - eat up! Just remember that frosting is more fat than fuel.
P.S. It's exactly what you think it will be. So, no, Riley, don't bother.
No comments:
Post a Comment