I had to vacate my home for a few hours on Valentine’s Day to make way for a bunch of junior high students. Where to go on a cold night when every couple is on a date? The un-romantic comedy He’s Just Not That Into You seemed like my best bet for a not-too-crowded escape. (It was surprisingly crowded, and surprising full of men who came of their own accord.) I went in expecting a “cotton candy” movie, and the film-makers certainly did a lot to cheese this thing up and trash it out. Ultimately though, it was the most depressing film I’ve seen in a long time. The embarrassment, disappointment, and manipulation rang true; the few happy endings didn’t. Jennifer Connolly stole the show and made me cry.
My sister and I both did that whole face-fanning thing for a good bit of our drive home (Why do we do that? Do we think we’re speeding the evaporation of our tears?), but she tuned the radio to a cliche-ridden and amusing radio proposal, and we ended the evening doubled over in laughter. While I wouldn’t endorse the movie (too unnecessarily skanky), I would recommend that if you see it, you have something fun planned for afterward. For cotton candy, it’s bitter.
