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I wanted to like this movie.
Those of you familiar with my other reviews may consider this quite shocking. Senni Tonnika, going into a movie theatre, hoping for a happy movie experience? Yes, wonders will never cease all right.
At last, not in reality. In the truly pitiful "The Wedding Singer", however, wonders have well and truly ceased by the time Steve Buscemi exits stage right. For Buscemi's drunken rant at the beginning of the movie is the only even vaguely funny thing about this purported "romantic comedy". After Buscemi is gone, we are left at the mercy of Adam Sandler and a shockingly insipid Drew Barrymore.
The makers of this comedy seem to banking on the assumption that the audience will find the decade known as the 1980's to be a neverending source of amusement. Indeed, many of the morons at the showing I attended practically needed to be carried out on stretchers, so incapacitated with mirth were they. And yet, the laughter of subhumanoids doth not a good comedy make.
The alleged comedy begins with Adam Sandler belting out Youthquake's "You Spin Me Round (Like A Record)", heralding one of the only bright spots in the film - its soundtrack. Anyone who, like I do, still loves the Psychedelic Furs' "Love My Way" can look forward to hearing it twice here. Unfortunately, that's all you can look forward to.
So after "You Spin Me Round" is over, what do we have? Well, Sandler's character, Robbie, the Wedding Singer of the title, is stood up at the altar by his girlfriend, Linda, who couldn't have been more shallow a caricature if she'd been played by Heather Locklear. After getting to know more about Robbie, who apparently is some sort of manic depressive *unintentionally, I'm sure; after all, if the film-makers ever stated this, Robbie might actually become interesting*, we don't really blame her. Soon after, he falls for Julia *Barrymore*, a waitress who, if the fact that she is _constantly_ smiling is indicative of anything, seriously needs to see a therapist to confront her anger.
Predictably enough, poor, shy, vulnerable, Cure-listening, pathological-mood-swing-prone Robbie falls head over heels in Lerve with this vapid creature, but - ta-DAAA! - she's already Engaged! Of course, the guy is a scumbag, and damned proud of it. This is presumably so we can point to him and say, "Look! Look how much better Robbie is in comparison!" Basically, Julia's fiance makes Cal Hockley in "Titanic" look like Jimmy Stewart *Jeez, male fiances are really getting bad press these days*.
As in every single romantic comedy EVER produced, we know in the first five minutes who's going to end up with who, and then have to sit through an hour and twenty-five minutes of inane misunderstandings and tiffs before what you knew would happen, happens. Is The Wedding Singer any different? Well, what do _you_ think? Of course, a couple of things are different; unlike the best romantic comedies *Singin' In The Rain, Some Like It Hot* we don't care whether True Lerve wins out or not, and are gazing longingly at the Exit light; and, of course, most good romantic comedies don't feature painful cameos from Billy Idol *not of course to imply that The Wedding Singer is in fact a good romantic comedy*.
Drew Barrymore _can_ be an excellent actress, when she has a good script to work with, but is wasted here. Sandler is unspeakable; if the film-makers had had an ounce of sense, they would have cast the far more talented Steve Buscemi in the lead role. Sure, he may not be handsome, but he was more believable, much funnier, and can sing a Hell of a lot better.
Yes, I wanted to like this movie. But unfortunately, this movie just didn't like me. It insulted my intelligence far too often for us to become friendly acquaintances. And thus, in retaliation, I wrote this review. "You Spin Me Round"? Yes; in the direction of the movie next door.
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