Published: Thursday, 31st January, 2008 12:30
PS I Love You
By Damon Smith
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Cinema Review
PS I Love You
Pic by: Copyright Alcon Entertainment
Within the first 15 minutes of Richard LaGravenese’s tepid romantic comedy, swarthy Irish musician Gerry Kennedy (Gerard Butler) dies, leaving behind his wife Holly (Hilary Swank) to contemplate a bleak future.
This involves moping around their Manhattan apartment, screeching along to Judy Garland and 'The Man That Got Away’ from A Star Is Born, amid an ever-growing tide of discarded fast food cartons and dirty laundry.
Gerry’s passing – a brain tumour – is supposed to be a deeply emotional moment in P.S. I Love You, adapted from the novel by Cecelia Ahern.
Indeed it is – we’re relieved, perhaps even delighted, that the leading man has shifted his mortal coil.
Seldom has one character been so irritating in so little time.
Butler’s ridiculous, roaming accent grates almost as much as his striptease in boxer shorts and suspenders, which is supposed to be endearing but just looks awkward and ridiculous.
There’s no sexual chemistry with two-time Oscar winner Swank, who squanders her talents in a thankless role that runs the gamut of tearful
and perky.
Love across the supernatural divide may have endured for Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore, but here, it is dead on arrival.
In those opening scenes, when Gerry and Holly loudly question the future of their relationship, we’re left in no doubt that the characters are
doomed.
Unfortunately, the next two hours of LaGravenese’s syrupy yarn rely on us mourning Gerry and the eternal happiness he would have brought Holly.
Good riddance, more like.
Holly’s suffering is eased by the arrival of a series of letters, in which Gerry instructs her to face her fear of karaoke, throw out his clothes and visit the Emerald Isle with gal pals Sharon (Gina Gershon) and Denise (Lisa Kudrow).
Sexy musician William (Morgan), who just happens to be Gerry’s old band mate, catches Denise’s roving eye – “Let me buy him as a souvenir!” –
but the guitar player is more interested in plucking up romance with Holly.
Meanwhile, back in New York, secret admirer Daniel (Harry Connick Jr), who suffers from a condition that compels him to tell the truth, hopes the heartbroken heroine might glance his way.
P.S. I Love You is saccharine, emotionally manipulative tosh that might be passable if LaGravenese and co-writer Steven Rogers could convince us that Gerry and Holly were anything other than polar opposites.
Swank sniffles through every contrivance but it’s all crocodile tears.
Kudrow provides fleeting comic relief as the man-hungry singleton, who chooses bedfellows using three simple questions: “Are you single?”, “Are
you gay?”, “Are you working?”.
Alas, both she and Gershon don’t have sufficient screen time to make an impact. Bates suffers a similar fate.
Connick Jr is lumbered with arguably the toughest role in the film as the quixotic bachelor who confides: “I’d like to be somebody’s Gerry.”
Dear God no. One buffoon, who refuses to die quietly, is more than enough.
4/10
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