 Head Over Heels (2001) Unfortunately, these two things did not need to be brought together. The result is a ramshackle mess with some of the most amateurish writing, acting, and direction I've seen in awhile. Even for this type of movie, this one scrapes the bottom of every barrel it draws from. The high road is never taken when it comes to utilizing pure cliché … when a woman is attracted to a guy and suddenly runs into him, she gets nervous, stammers, and inevitably lets out some Freudian slip about his dick. Four contrived supermodels are, as expected, vacuous. Three elderly ladies are, unsurprisingly, made out to be "shocking," suddenly unleashing curse words or talking about sex. There's a horny dog and an "energetic" montage in which the female lead "gets dressed up." Monica Potter is an extremely bargain-basement Julia Roberts, and Freddie Prinze, Jr. proves once again that he needs to not talk and simply let his abs do all the work. Somehow, though, I found myself perversely drawn into it all, so maybe Head Over Heels has the last laugh. It seems to know it's bad, remains almost defiantly so, flouting it in the audience's face like a dirty diaper. The fact that something this lazy managed to make some people money gives me hope … someday, it will be I dangling the diaper.
Review by Anita Friend |