Simon Helberg wrote and co-directed this tale of a shlamazel with self esteem issues, a touch of OCD and a healthy dose of hypochondria. One suspects if Woody Allen had made this film it would have had better fleshed out supporting characters and the long term live-in girlfriend could have still worked if a better actress had been cast. As it is Melanie Lynksey's Devon is played with a constant scowl and annoyed unpleasant disconnected manner more befitting of a drama than a slapstick comedy. Kelsey the rebound prospect as played by Maggie Grace is brilliant and perfect for this genre, being the mad fly in the ointment of Quinn's plans. Sadly her contribution along with those of others including Quinn's father are poorly connected to Quinn's central character. The only other person who's role in the film was properly thought out is the best mate who's always there for support and advice. It's clear the rest of the script wasn't properly thought out or bound up before filming, which damages an otherwise great idea.
We'll never have Paris aspires to be Manhattan and misses the mark by just enough to make it a bit of a drag in between gags. The saving graces of the film are Helberg's consummate Jewish man/boy and the brilliant soundtrack of French songs that given the fact most people won't understand them, serves well to give the film a light atmosphere in the same way jazz was used to great effect by another neurotic writer director.
If you're going to make a film like this, make sure the hero ends up with the girl who is at least a bit sympathetic. By the end of the film Quinn has clearly succumbed to his fears and wears down the woman who is more mother than lover. Perhaps there is an element of reality in as much as Devon is well into married life without the benefit of having ever been asked. If you're intent on making her the prize at the end, her role needed to be written/acted with more effort than the sleepwalk we were treated to.
We'll never have Paris could have been so much better and is proof that comedy without timing and empathy is only ever painful at best. You wish there was a reset button because it's almost there but for better casting and some fine tuning. I look forward to seeing Simon Helberg's next effort as I'm sure it has to be better than this.
We'll never have Paris aspires to be Manhattan and misses the mark by just enough to make it a bit of a drag in between gags. The saving graces of the film are Helberg's consummate Jewish man/boy and the brilliant soundtrack of French songs that given the fact most people won't understand them, serves well to give the film a light atmosphere in the same way jazz was used to great effect by another neurotic writer director.
If you're going to make a film like this, make sure the hero ends up with the girl who is at least a bit sympathetic. By the end of the film Quinn has clearly succumbed to his fears and wears down the woman who is more mother than lover. Perhaps there is an element of reality in as much as Devon is well into married life without the benefit of having ever been asked. If you're intent on making her the prize at the end, her role needed to be written/acted with more effort than the sleepwalk we were treated to.
We'll never have Paris could have been so much better and is proof that comedy without timing and empathy is only ever painful at best. You wish there was a reset button because it's almost there but for better casting and some fine tuning. I look forward to seeing Simon Helberg's next effort as I'm sure it has to be better than this.