The Sweetest Thing
Short of being attached to the bumper of a pickup truck by a cock ring and being dragged around the "great" state of Texas, I can't think of anything more painful than watching "The Sweetest Thing," which signals the end of Cameron Diaz's sanity, if not her career.
One imagines Diaz has a stack of scripts at home which could serve as the foundation of a decent-sized house, yet out of all of them, she chose to participate in the one with the monosyllabic dialogue. Undoubtedly she did this because she thought it would be fun to try her hand at improvisation and dancing around in her underwear. I say this because if there actually was a written script for this film, the writer must have been straight out of a USC fraternity basement. Here's a typical sampling of dialogue:
"How's it going?"
"Good. Where you going?"
"Cool. Want to hang out?"
I never imagined I would get to see a film in which Christina Applegate attempts to urinate in a dirty men's urinal. Applegate plays Courtney, best friend to Christina (Diaz). To say these women are despicable bitches would be insulting every breed of female dog in existence. They are both beyond shallow and treat men like crap. For whatever reason, director Roger Kumble (rhymes with fuckwad) thinks we're going to care about Christina when she falls in love with Peter Donahue (Thomas Jane), who's the first guy she ever meets that doesn't immediately ejaculate on her shoes. Determined to find "true love," Courtney and Christina crash Peter's wedding (though they think it's his brother's wedding).
While this film is supposed to be about Christina, Kumble keeps cutting back to Christina's friend, Jane (Selma Blair), as well as Peter and his brother. This is because the dialogue is so bad the characters actually run out of things to say. Jane's penultimate moment comes (no pun intended) when she somehow gets her head caught on her boyfriend's pierced penis. Other gems of directing include the fact that Christina Applegate's breasts keep changing size. One second she's Pamela Anderson and the next minute she's my grandmother, suggesting the costume designer, along with the rest of the crew, was very likely smoking crack throughout the entire production.
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