I would have been more entertained by watching my toenails grow. This movie told its whole story in the first fifteen minutes and then rode out the last 2 hours reveling in some sort of pseudo-cathartic angst painted up to look like sorrow and passion but, underneath, was nothing but an excuse for Kristin Scott Thomas to look pained and Harrison Ford to mumble a lot. I wish I could call this just a chick flick, but it's not even that. This was "Hanover Street", but without the plot. This was every movie you never wanted to see wrapped up and thrown at you all at once.
Review of Random Hearts
