I have to admit that I watched this film under duress and in its favour, if you enjoyed Notting Hill and Bridget Jones, you’ll probably enjoy this. If however you are a fellow cynic, you will probably make the following observations – after being revived from the diabetic coma watching this film will induce:
In a world that isn’t inhabited solely by sensitive upper middle class English professionals who all live happily ever after covered in pixie dust tra-lal-la:
1. Liam Neeson’s son’s stage school perfect cutie-pie brains would’ve been splattered all over Heathrow airport by armed security forces.
2. Keira Knightley would’ve called her hubbie’s best friend a pervert and stalker and he would’ve been on the receiving end of a restraining order, or a good kicking from his up until recently best friend’s burliest mates. Or both.
3. Bill Nighy would’ve woken up on Christmas morning septum-less under a heaving pile of barely legal wannabe-models coated in fine white powder that wasn’t necessarily snow.
4. I don’t know much about Milwaukee, but I do know that it’s not populated entirely with underwear models desperate to be the willing sex slaves of a sex-obsessed English yob. It is in fact the fattest city in America and as you can imagine, that’s up against some pretty stiff competition.
5. Martine McCutcheon would definitely “not have had sexual relations” with Hugh Grant and then been shuffled off out of sight and mind. Unless she had a handily unwashed dress with the stains to prove otherwise.
Non-cynics may find this film a bundle of cosy loveliness however. But to the more jaded of us I would suggest that you just grit your teeth during all the bits that don’t feature Bill Nighy.