Roberts and Clooney are back and showing us how good they are as colleagues and how bad it is to hate each other against a backdrop of palm trees in this new romantic comedy from Ol Parker: Journey to Paradise.
I won’t lie to you, I’m bribeable and I go to the movies solely and exclusively because of the promise of the trip to Bali with which the distributor makes sure not to skate at the box office with Journey to Paradise.
Getting to the point quickly, the previous film of Hello Parker, Mamma Mia: Again and again– unnecessary and pathetic sequel to a fun and dignified first installment that largely resurrected the love for musicals and for the Abba group-, it already let us know what the director’s strong points of style are, that is to say, relationships old-fashioned, substance-less romances in privileged natural settings that make us drool.
Boring and food movie where Colin Firth i Pierce Brosnan they give the most embarrassing show of their entire career (special mention to Mr. Brosnan who made me think that time removes talent, be it much or little, in a vile way or that a stunt double replaces it) for a paycheck that compensates them for the shame of others. And in what Meryl Streep he got (oh yes, thank you, thank you, thank you Meryl!) thankfully out of harm’s way. And Cher wasn’t so quick.
With these ingredients that won’t make him a cult director but yes, perhaps, memorable for his love of postcards, Parker perpetrates his latest travel guide featuring none other than the queen of the romantic comedy, Julia Roberts (sorry Jennifer Anniston, you’re the empress), the undisputed comedic face of George Clooney and the exaggerated enthusiasm of both brought about by the zeros that will have increased the current account of both.
The plot is more than predictable, which is not so serious because we are usually charged for this, but it makes it clear in case there was any doubt that in the matter of romantic comedy Hepburn, Cary Grant, James Stewart, for talk about Master Cukor (better not talk about Mr. Cukor, right Ol?) they already did everything almost a century ago and these are still minimal variations on the same theme.
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So long after My little girl’s beastOl Parker tries to follow in his wake without a script, without brilliant dialogues or the rich supporting characters of the classic of the great master of American comedy (the scenery does not distract from such mediocrity)
So what does it bring to the genre? Journey to Paradise?
Landscapes and dolphins, appearing in a brief sequence to force a Disney-style gag that made me blink and very little else. There is no memorable soundtrack, the direction is forgettable (is there a direction? Clooney and Roberts don’t need it to do what they do best and go out on sponsored drinks) and passable cinematography considering that the scenery puts a lot from you.
On the plus side, Roberts still has his magical laugh and I find the idea of growing seaweed as a side job very attractive.
And the rest of the cast? Promotes drowsiness. Special mention to the young married couple who could have come out of a teenager clothes catalogue.
Because the chemistry between Roberts and Clooney, indisputably, is the only one in the entire film. The love story of their firstborn is light years away from being credible and the bond that arose by the sea hardly surpasses the emotion of a perfume ad.
Forget about seeing Bali, tell yourself what the tourist agencies sell about Bali, a group of postcards in which no real people appear shot in a luxury resort and in which I miss a stampede of kangaroos (noticeable which shoot in Queensland).
- Recommended by: Instagram photo travel junkies, Roberts’ smiley staff, rom-com fans whatever, zombies.
- Contraindicated by: Clooney fans (there are times when you really want to stone him to coconuts).
- The best: the possibility to leave the brain in flat encephalogram during the footage, the laughter of Roberts, the blue of the sea.
- The worst: the remaining