If the bookends weren’t so terrible, Marry Me might have made a passable romance. As is, however, this film has a nauseating premise and a problematic close. But hey, the middle was kinda cute, right?
Locating their inner Notting Hill, the producers of Marry Me tell the tale of romance between a star and a schlub. The star is mutli-platinum recording artist Kat (Jennifer Lopez); the schlub is multi-student math teaching artist Charlie (Owen Wilson) … and their wedding is stupid.
As something that is 80% publicity stunt and 20% true love, Kat plans to sing a duet “Marry Me” with her co-songwriter/recording star/fiancé/roué Bastian (Maluma). After the stage performance, the two will wed. That’s not a good premise to begin with. You can pretend romance all you want, but it reeks of cheap publicity stunt. What follows is even worse: Kat discovers right before the big number that Bastian is no bastion of faith; he’s caught on camera cheating with Kat’s assistant. So … get this, Bastian leaves (?) but Kat doesn’t (?!?) and performs the number anyway by herself while wearing a wedding dress fully knowing that ain’t gonna happen.
And this is the best part – Charlie, a divorced non-fan who is at the concert only at the behest of his good friend Parker (Sarah Silverman) and his daughter Lou (Chloe Coleman), is holding Parker’s “Marry Me” sign by himself when the music stops and Kat picks out a new dance partner. Life partner, dance partner, whatever. And instead of saying, “I don’t know you” or “This isn’t even my sign,” Charlie comes up on stage and marries Kat. (My wife pointed out that in NY you need a license to do so, which Charlie definitely did not have.)
I loathe this premise. Just hate it to pieces. But I’m glad I didn’t turn it off.
After this point, we get snippets of the Kat/Charlie mock romance, and it’s really kind of sweet. JLo is the exact definition of a star with misplaced reality but isn’t necessarily a lost cause. Average schlub with a sweet disposition is exactly the role Owen Wilson should always play. When it’s just him and just her being people on screen, this film works. Charlie is a modest divorced father; he knows his bes
t feature is his fatherhood as demonstrated in both his parenting and his teaching. Kat, like most women I imagine, responds to this feature; they’re good together.
And just when I’m starting to enjoy it, Act III happens. The Kat didn’t need to be on the roof, but Marry Me is a Hollywood-made film, what the Hell else is she supposed to do? I won’t spoil it directly, but two major things bug me about the standard romance ending demonstrated in Marry Me: 1) The couple never solved their most pressing problem and 2) Kat completely steals focus from a moment that should have entirely belonged to Lou. These aren’t just script problems; these a plot problems … and the movie ended with them.
Marry Me nailed the middle portion. What it really needed to do was combine with films that only got the opening right, like Radius, and a film that only got the ending right, like Boss Baby 2. If Marry Me had managed to combine those elements, it might have come out a winner. Oh, and add some better music. Geez. We just had a film in which the song editor left too much on the floor (Sing 2) and here we have the exact opposite: none of the music in this film is memorable or worthy of your attention, yet every song goes on long enough for a bathroom break. Go ahead and take it; you’ll miss nothing and thank me.
Sure, you’re anxious to do some titular shedding
But you might rethink the spouse that you’re getting
She’s up there on stage
One mil in a rage
Is it bad luck to meet the bride before the wedding?
Rated PG-13, 112 Minutes
Director: Kat Coiro (seriously, the director and the leading role have the same name? That doesn’t seem coincidental)
Writer: John Rogers, Tami Sagher, Harper Dill
Genre: Implausible romance
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: People who only see Act II
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: People who only see Acts I & III
