Head Over Heels
Could someone please shove an incendiary device up Freddie Prinze, Jr's rectum? I am really interested to see if that "I'm sleeping with Sarah Michelle Gellar" smile ever leaves his face. If I didn't know better, I'd think this woman could suck gold nuggets through Freddie's urethra because no matter the situation, his emotional range swings madly between happy and giddy.
I'm not sure who cast this movie, but the only way they could have come up with two duller performances would have been to have the two leads, Prinze and Monica Potter, play their characters using sock puppets. Monica Potter, who plays Amanda, a woman who moves into a Manhattan apartment with four models, has the sort of face that one would expect to find on the side of a fabric softener box.
The entire plot is driven by the fact that Jim (Prinze) who lives in the apartment across from Amanda, doesn't close his shades, so Amanda and her model friends (Shalom Harlow, Ivana Milicevic, Sarah O'Hare, and Tomiko Fraser) peep on him. Amanda falls for him but, as she's peeping on him, thinks she sees him kill somebody.
When Amanda "feels" something for somebody, she goes weak in the knees. This passes for humor in this film, and the filmmakers don't use it once or twice, but three, four and five times -- so often that by the end, you wish somebody would just amputate Amanda's legs and save her the terrible trouble. The dialogue is something to behold as well. Amanda is constantly tripping over her own words, saying things like "I want to kiss you" instead of "I'm going to miss you" and "I've shat my pants" instead of "astrological signs point to bad weather." Again, the first time this happens, it's a groaner. After the tenth time, I was looking for an aerosol can and a match so I could set fire to the screen.
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