For a movie called “New Year’s Eve,” there was a severe lack of fireworks (both literally and figuratively) in the two-hour horror director Gary Marshall tried to pass off as a film. Bad puns aside, the movie suffered from the same problem as most nausea-inducing romantic comedies these days: it wasn’t a comedy, and it wasn’t romantic. I’m not sure how anyone, much less Michelle Pfeiffer, Sofia Vergara, Robert De Niro and Halle Berry, was convinced this was a good idea.
Casting every movie star possible does not mean the movie will be good, especially when it prevents any of the characters from being developed (not that I would expect a compelling emotional journey from something called “New Year’s Eve,” but that’s beside the point).
Maybe I’m just bitter. Maybe I set my standards for entertainment too high. But I refuse to believe Sarah Jessica Parker is still young enough to play a romantic lead to someone half her age (alright, that’s an over-exaggeration) with whom she shares no chemistry. I also find it hard to believe someone can magically find a horse-drawn carriage or an empty street in New York City on New Year’s just after the ball has dropped. But what do I know?
Maybe it was the lack of chemistry between any of the couples (you would think they could get one out of 6,000), the really bad script, the fact I wanted to see “Hugo” instead and was pouting in my seat or a combination of all three. Either way, maybe Marshall should resolve to stop making holiday-themed “romantic comedies.”