Confessions of a Shopaholic
Based on the novels by Sophie Kinsella and all too clearly conceived well before the Big Crunch, this girly romcom could in no way be considered a prescient satire on our addiction to debt. Isla Fisher plays Rebecca, a Bridget-Jonesy single girl in Manhattan who persistently maxes out her credit cards on designer clobber from posh stores. It’s by-the-numbers stuff, but all so silly and goofy you can’t take offence. Kristin Scott Thomas has an embarrassing cameo as a haughty French fashion editor. — Peter Bradshaw
Friday the 13th
This 12th version of the 1980 horror classic would seem, from its title, to be a back-to-the-beginning reboot. But it dispenses with the story of the very first movie in a prologue, so it’s really a remake of Friday the 13th Part II. Whichever. Director Marcus Nispel did the same thing for The Texas Chainsaw Massacre a few years ago, tarting up the production values while adding absolutely nothing else. There is no humour, no twist in the generic form, no innovation of any kind — and the characters are clichés.
Sorry, Nispel does add more boobage. And not just boobs bouncing in terror through the rain as a cast member flees the villain (Texas had a lot of that). In Friday the 13th, three sets of naked female breasts go on display at various points, which means their owners are soon to get slashed or spiked or gored. Unfortunately for gender equality, there are no male breasts on sustained display, though Jared Perendeki (the alleged hero) seems to have a fine pair of D-cups. Unfortunately for the movie-watching experience, this film is an utter bore. — Shaun de Waal
Passengers
This movie spends so much time trying to figure out what it’s about that it leaves the audience in a state of dissatisfied waiting. About plane crash survivors and their psychologist, it jumps from love story to mystery to thriller, being a little bit of everything and ultimately about nothing. The acting is disappointing, to say the least, with Anne Hathaway playing a shy, yet sexually frustrated and awkward psychologist, though she tries so hard that it brings the awkwardness to life. The hot male lead (Patrick Wilson) couldn’t hold my attention, and this was one movie where I didn’t get annoyed when the person next to me started humming with boredom. — Ilham Rawoot
Paul Blart: Mall Cop
I went to see this only because I’d missed the screening of Rachel Getting Married and Ster-Kinekor was unable to give critics another showing of it, despite Anne Hathaway’s Oscar nomination. I thought I might have to focus on this comedy this week.
But, thanks to the wonders of DVD piracy, I got to see Rachel Getting Married and don’t have to make Paul Blart: Mall Cop a major review. It doesn’t deserve more than a few words, if that. The story of a fat security guard (Kevin James) at a big mall who is first humiliated and then redeems himself and his masculinity by taking on a bunch of robbers, it has a few funny moments but otherwise it feels like a half-hour sitcom episode stretched out to three times that length. Perfect for the whole brain-dead family. —SdW