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Pernicious tripe suitable only for masochists and the intellectually disabled, Sheree Folkson’s rom-com tracks the shenanigans endured by a romantically frustrated 30-year-old (the sternly beautiful Kelly Macdonald) as she reluctantly retreats to her dour, rainy island hometown up in the Hebrides only to find the spot of turf invaded by a paparazzi-plagued American movie goddess (Alice Eve) looking for a place to get privately married. Scottish codgers with babbling burrs clash with cynical Yank publicists, and Macdonald’s sad maiden gets embroiled in contrivance-choked ways that only begin with the titular gag. The supposedly frothy tone is tarry and flavorless, and the drill is painfully familiar: three bouncy-dumb song interludes in the first five minutes, comic chases and pratfalls in wedding dresses, constant and toxic doses of cute, a comeuppance for the vain and wealthy Americans, romance for the modest heroine (but only after swapping insults with ostensible groom-to-be David Tennant, which means he’ll be the lucky schmuck in the end). If you don’t bridle at the pandering, nothing bothers you.