Serendipity (2001)

Okay, for a moment, let's assume I'm running a different movie-review website, a gimmick site where I relate my thoughts about everything I see in one word. With Serendipity, that magic, all-definining word would be "exasperating". (100 Girls, meanwhile, would be the word "Ohholyjesuschristfuckingkillmenowbeforeikickmytelevisionintonextweek".) I'm all for romantic comedies that put a couple stumbling blocks in front of our protagonists, but it's really quite a different thing to make our man and woman of the hour have to jump through fire hoops while spinning plates and balancing bowling pins on their noses. The sheer convoluted nature of this endeavour pretty much precludes any sort of enjoyment -- this is The Romantic Comedy as Cryptogram. There's some amusing stuff on the margins (especially the invaluable Eugene Levy as a slimy Bloomingdale's clerk), but at the film's center is nothing but a giant vortex of lame. Even John Cusack can't make this ungainly claptrap soar for more than a moment or two.

Grade: C