Skip This Leap Year

It's been two days since I staggered my way into the horrendous new romantic comedy, Leap Year, kindly allowing it to sit and ferment in my brain with the hopes of coming up with something to say. I've had two days of reflection, wishing for the right words to say. Unfortunately, two days is all it took for me to forget it. It's an early contender for a "worst of the year" list, but it probably won't make the cut because come December, I'll have rightfully secreted every last thought of this thing from my mind. It's mere existence will be unbeknownst to me.

Amy Adams plays Anna, a prissy, irritating material girl who is too blinded by the thought of getting engaged to realize she's with a scummy boyfriend whom she doesn't really love. After an evening dinner where the big "surprise" her boyfriend promised was a pair of earrings, she gets antsy for an engagement and hears from her father, played by John Lithgow, that there's an old Irish tradition where a woman can go to the country and propose to her boyfriend on February 29th, a leap year. Well, whaddya know, her boyfriend is in Dublin on a business trip. How convenient! Being the young, hopeful woman she is, she makes her way out to see him and pop the question, but alas! The weather is bad and her plane is forced to land in Wales. Oh, whatever shall she do? Why, hitch a ride with a strapping young Irish lad of course! His name is Declan, played by Matthew Goode, and...well, you know what happens from here.

I adore Amy Adams. I've been in love with her ever since I saw the wonderful Enchanted. From that moment on, I've been ready to fall to my knees and confess my undying devotion to her, even when I've sat through films that I didn't particularly like. For example, Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian was a brain killing movie, yet I found myself attracted to Ms. Adams, which pulled me through the grueling experience. She's proven herself to be quite the actress as well, pulling off Oscar nominated roles in Junebug and Doubt. But she is beyond annoying in Leap Year. Perhaps her character was simply written that way and her performance was actually spot on, but I, for the first time since discovering the beautiful young woman, found myself disgusted at her presence. It just goes to show that even the most gorgeous, charismatic girl in Hollywood can't rectify a miserable script and shoddy production.

Unfortunately, I was unable to attend the pre-screening for this film and was forced to pay for it, where I sat and watched with a packed crowd of women (and three other men who begrudgingly wandered in with their lady friends). They laughed the entire time and when walking out, I heard nothing but praise, so I can only imagine that if you are a woman aged 18-65, you may enjoy this. You are its demographic. I am not, so take my words with a grain of salt, but I can't help but feel like Leap Year lazily catered solely to that audience instead of creating a product that could be enjoyed by anybody. For instance, the jokes in the movie usually centered around Anna's clothes, handbags and shoes. At one point, she finds herself washed up on the beach in heels. Cue the female laughter. Walking in heels on the beach? How ruthlessly absurd!

Perhaps I'm being too hard on it. Just like I don't understand the humor in jokes about clothes, most women I know don't understand my love of Rambo, so I'm willing to call it even. What I cannot forgive, however, is the predictable script, eye rolling dialogue and inauthentic love story. What transpires is nothing more than a fairy tale happy ending that would never, ever in a million years, happen in real life. If it did, we would all be living with the one true love of our lives cuddling up in front of a fire that emanates a warmth unneeded due to the own warmth we'd be creating, if you know what I mean.

But movies are an escape and I suppose if things ended realistically, everybody would be miserable and movie going patrons would cry foul. That doesn't make up for its ineptitude, but I'm sure it will be a hit with its target audience. More power to them, I say. Of course, that doesn't mean I have to like it. And I don't. In fact, I've already booked an appointment with Lacuna, Inc. to come and wipe it from my memory tonight when I go to sleep. Will I fight the process, realizing my love for it and discovering that my hatred was only pain disguised as anger? I doubt it. That story has already been told.

Leap Year receives 0.5/5