Family Man

Bomb Rating: 

Imagine that, a baby whose poop doesn't smell good! Oh, the hijinks!

You know that Hollywood film executives aren't even trying anymore when they consider the idea of Nicolas Cage falling in love with Téa Leoni some sort of far-fetched notion. The question of this film isn't, "Why does Nic Cage fall in love with Téa Leoni?" it's "Why doesn't Nic Cage fall in love with Leoni faster, and what the hell is wrong with him in the first place?"

This film is a blatant rip-off of a film released earlier this year or last year called "Me Myself I", about an executive who wakes up one day, bumps her head on the refrigerator and regains consciousness only to find herself married to the high school sweetheart she told to shove his marriage proposal up his ass all those years ago.

The same thing happens to Jack Campbell (Cage), too, except that a very strange man (Don Cheadle) is the cause for Jack getting a "glimpse" of the life that could have been. Oh, sure, things seem a bit unsettling for Jack at first -- he doesn't have any money or a Ferrari and he works in a tire store. And he has a baby that craps nasty, smelly poop. (Imagine that, a baby whose poop doesn't smell good! Oh, the hijinks!) Well, this all puts Jack into an absolute tizzy, that is, until he starts taking a good look at Kate (Leoni), who's so unbelievably beautiful that it's nothing short of a miracle that every hard-up guy in the theater didn't celebrate the holiday season by pulling down his pants and flogging the yodeling Mountie right there in the theater.

Needless to say, it's just a matter of time before Jack realizes that there are more important things in life than fast cars and hot sex and lots of money -- hot sex alone will do nicely, thank you. Of course, was there even the remotest chance that this mysterious man might have transported Jack into a vision of late middle age, when those previously perky wife breasts now resemble upside-down tomato peppers, every day feels like somebody has a griddle underneath Jack's prostate, and that cute baby is now four months pregnant with a crack bastard? Of course not. It always has to be a wonderful life.

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