I read all the bad reviews "Love Happens" received and convinced myself that they were written by cynical, sensation-hungry reviewers who prefer the likes of Anton Chigurh to wholesome romance. Boy, was I wrong. "Love Happens" is one of the worst movies I've ever seen. The fault is entirely the script's. "Love Happens" script feels like a rough draft a Hollywood wannabe would hand in at a weekend workshop. "Love Happens" is completely incoherent. It never gels even into, simply, a coherent bad movie. It just careens from a series of aborted attempts to be a tearjerker, a romantic comedy, a trip through Seattle's colorful coffeehouses, and a commentary on advice gurus and their bestsellers.
There are some moments that feel like they might lift this mess off the ground. John Carroll Lynch is both poignant and frightening as a bereaved father who can't get over his son's death. We get to ogle Aaron Eckhart's abs as he broods beside a beautifully lit pool. Jennifer Aniston plays a florist; she reads a series of poignant cards that accompanied bouquets. One character owns a pet sulfur-crested cockatoo, and the bird is very pretty. Really, you grasp at straws trying to find something to enjoy in this movie.
But then the movie decides to do something massively stupid and crude, like set that sulfur-crested cockatoo, a bird from the Australian outback, free in a foggy Pacific Northwest evergreen forest. It would starve in days, everyone in the audience knows that, and you wonder why the characters on screen do not. And you realize how idiotic this movie is.
And what the heck is going on with Jennifer Aniston's character, Eloise? Every moment Aniston was on screen, I was struggling really hard to like or respect her. Her character is unlike any living female I've ever met. She had the polished make-up and hair extensions of a Hollywood power player, but she wore ugly scarves and seemed to completely lack a personality. You can't really do that, Jennifer – you can't be both obvious star and self-effacing girl-next-door.
By the way, Love does not Happen in this movie. Aniston and Eckhart have zero chemistry. Blame the director. In their own ways, both of these actors can be interesting, and had some sparks been struck between them, this could have been a memorable film.
There are some moments that feel like they might lift this mess off the ground. John Carroll Lynch is both poignant and frightening as a bereaved father who can't get over his son's death. We get to ogle Aaron Eckhart's abs as he broods beside a beautifully lit pool. Jennifer Aniston plays a florist; she reads a series of poignant cards that accompanied bouquets. One character owns a pet sulfur-crested cockatoo, and the bird is very pretty. Really, you grasp at straws trying to find something to enjoy in this movie.
But then the movie decides to do something massively stupid and crude, like set that sulfur-crested cockatoo, a bird from the Australian outback, free in a foggy Pacific Northwest evergreen forest. It would starve in days, everyone in the audience knows that, and you wonder why the characters on screen do not. And you realize how idiotic this movie is.
And what the heck is going on with Jennifer Aniston's character, Eloise? Every moment Aniston was on screen, I was struggling really hard to like or respect her. Her character is unlike any living female I've ever met. She had the polished make-up and hair extensions of a Hollywood power player, but she wore ugly scarves and seemed to completely lack a personality. You can't really do that, Jennifer – you can't be both obvious star and self-effacing girl-next-door.
By the way, Love does not Happen in this movie. Aniston and Eckhart have zero chemistry. Blame the director. In their own ways, both of these actors can be interesting, and had some sparks been struck between them, this could have been a memorable film.