Someone needs to slap Garry Marshall in the fucking mouth. The director of some of the most mawkish, dull, uninspired and treacly films of all time is on the rampage this time. After striking gold with films like Beaches and Pretty Woman — not great films in retrospect, but acclaimed at the time — he’s resigned himself to pumping out absolute romantic dramedy trash for years now — The Princess Diaries 1 & 2, Georgia Rule, Runaway Bride, and his most egregious ensemble piece Valentine’s Day.
Well, he’s back with both the ensemble piece and the holiday themes, this time with New Year’s Eve, due out later this year. It stars basically the entire world — Robert Deniro, Lea Michelle, Ashton Kutcher, Sofia Vergara, Josh Duhamel, Zac Efron, Halle Berry, Abigail Breslin… it just goes on and on and on. Well, now he’s about to add two more pieces to his shit covered puzzle — Ice Cube and… Ryan Seacrest.
Cube, I’ve given up on. As much respect as I have for his early music, the man is clearly a pod person now. Seacrest, I don’t actually believe was ever a real person. He’s some sort of douchesnausage robot sent from the future to bring about the apocalypse. Oh, and he plays himself in the film.
What’s the film about, you ask? Who gives a shit? Oh, fine:
The lives of several couples and singles in New York intertwine over the course of New Year’s Eve. It’s supposed to be a sort of spiritual sequel to Valentine’s Day.