Makes Love, Actually seem like a gritty documentary. This is a cloying, revolting film about a young entrepreneur (Anne Hathaway), her senior intern (Robert DeNiro) and her struggles to have it all in the fast paced world of tech and fashion. Hathaway grew up from her stint as a personal assistant in The Devil Wears Prada, and now she runs her own on-line clothing company. But she works too hard, her marriage is in crisis, she’s mulling bringing in a new CEO and fortunately for her, dapper, impossibly cute DeNiro arrives to provide balance to her life. That’s the whole thing, which would be bearable, except for the fact that Hathaway is playing her own excruciating “aw, shucks, me?” persona; DeNiro looks bored; the plot is non-existent and the presentation slipshod; Anders Holm (from Comedy Central’s Workaholics) is Razzie-worthy for his clumsy, unconvincing turn as Hathaway’s mushy husband: the film doesn’t know whether it wants to be a comedy or a drama so it settles as a statement on the pressures put on rich professional women who live in impossibly gorgeous and classy Brooklyn brownstones; the score is a maudlin, soapy piano that bores into your skull; and everyone in the thing is just so damned cute, you hope that just maybe, they’ll inject a devastating calamity. They don’t, unless you consider accidentally sending an email criticizing your mother to your mother of that stripe.
Also, apparently, in Brooklyn and Manhattan, parking isn’t a problem. Anywhere.
In the immortal words of a review of a Spinal Tap record, shit sandwich.