one degree love game

there might be other films out there that are not as nauseous as he's not that into you. but i have a rule for shedding cinema money for two slebs no matter how dreadful the commodity or how lousy the enterprise. all the others, like a chick flick from yonder and beyond or a critically acclaimed project (not starring any one in my sweet list), i usually await on digital or blue laser disc. deeply entrenched in my fab but highly-disquieting 30's, i may have, in all probability, ceased being such a sucker to romcoms. i could no longer laugh at the punchlines or pseudo-punchlines. being in seclusion with other moviegoers in a dimly-lit cinema is an anathema to my misanthropic tendencies. while most of the audience laugh at the predictable lines and dialogues of the star-studded production, i cringe at the illustration of adultery and infidelity. the state of the art celluloid experience has no forward button to recoil from the shabby parts. scar-jo is the modern day venus, the temptress, playing the other woman anew like her nola rice in woody allen's match point, although brumspur's opinion of her as being another porcelain doll lucky enough not to do porn, stings a bit. jennifer connelly essays a role reminiscent of her jilted wife character in little children. however, after the break up and dodgeball, this is the first time i've seen justin long play the regular geezer. his alex is quite likable, an impressive foil to the anguish and concerns of the bubbly but over-analytical gigi (ginnifer goodwin). drew barrymore is barely a cameo. ben affleck appeared in about three or four scenes. his leading lady, jen aniston on the other hand has a few more bits, venturing into backdrops from her real life, as the despondent old maid, as if there's anything derelict in being a single female or a forsaken ex-wife or girlfriend. it's great to be in-love but it's even greater to walk tall amid the serrated claws of the splenetic antagonists.