Love & Other Drugs Desperate for Your Attention
From a jaunty Spin Doctorsscored opening to a teary, Regina Spektorcued finale, Love & Other Drugs will switch to any style, station, or frequency to keep you entertained. Or at least not bored. (Maybe awake?) The most egregious four-quadrant pander-party of the year, Ed Zwicks latest middlebrow atrocity has been so carefully market-testedcrudeness counteracts romance, slapstick leavens disease-of-the-week melodramathat it neednt even be seen, just administered directly into the bloody mainstream. Cuddly cubby bear Jake Gyllenhaal plays Jamie Randall, an underachieving late-1990s rich kid who learns to channel his sex drive into pimping pharmaceuticals for Pfizer. He hands out Zoloft and Viagra samples between strategic lays before finding his true calling in the company and care of Anne Hathaways eagerly proffered breasts. Jamie and prescription-med-junkie Maggie fuck until they make love, then break up/make up over her early-onset Parkinsons. Watching two ripe and fearless young stars nakedly cavort ought to be titillating, but Gyllenhaal and Hathaway are so overexposed here that you feel embarrassed for them. Meanwhile, Jamies incongruous brother, Josh (Josh Gad, a poor mans Jonah Hillwhich is more impoverishment than I thought possible), is crashed on the couch to counteract adulthood with jerk-off jokes. Buried somewhere in Zwicks film might be a topical modern romance, maybe even a health care satire, but youd need to dig past layers of creative desperation to find it.
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