SUMMARIZING THE PLOT of He's Just Not That Into You on a two-dimensional piece of paper is physically impossible. You'd need toothpicks and fun-sized marshmallows to construct an accurate representation, and even then you'd probably end up building a sort of ravenous, shrill-voiced toothpick monster that would want to corner you and talk about why none of the boy toothpick monsters want to date it.
See, the fun-sized marshmallows in this analogy are women, and the toothpicks are their problems, and the sense of being trapped by a self-obsessed monster is very much akin to the feeling of spending 129 minutes watching this film.
Scarlett Johansson is a yoga instructor who becomes involved with a married man. Ginnifer Goodwin is single and not so good at dating. Jennifer Aniston needs her long-term boyfriend Ben Affleck to marry her if she's ever going to be truly happy. And poor Jennifer Connelly is a shrew who basically does nothing all movie but nag her husband about quitting smoking. ("You do remember that my father DIED of cancer?") Drew Barrymore is just sweet. Love her.
Lots of different ladies, lots of different problems—now, if the filmmakers could only spice up this narrative with clips of sassy ladies telling it like it really is? Oh, thanks!
The problem with a romantic comedy purporting to "tell it like it is" is that we all know exactly how it is, and frankly, it's depressing. I don't need 129 minutes of ladies yapping about their bad dates in order to realize that people are constantly trying to pluck romance from ground that is, in reality, far too saturated with booze and craziness for anything worthwhile to bloom from it—um, welcome to Friday night, you know?
He's Just Not That Into You looks like a fun, awesome chick flick, and parts of it live up to that promise—but unfortunately, this bitch is long, and by the time it finally ended, it felt more grueling than any bad date I've ever had.