As a suicidal man (Mark Rosenthal) stands on a roof ready to throw himself off the building, his friends gather to try to convince him not to do it. Through the friends, his tale is told in... See full summary »
James Le Gros,
Four hip women get ready for Friday night in LA: they dress, talk about sex, and hit a bar before meeting four men at a rave. The men prepare by talking about sex and drinking. Rick and Jean, two attorneys, have set up the evening, connect at the club, and have a good time. The pairings of Shawn, Trent, Whitney and Emma are more serendipitous. But it's Mike and Sara's night that has serious repercussions: he's an NFL player, loud, swaggering; she's a party animal who drinks a lot early that evening. At 4 AM, she appears at Jean's, disheveled and bruised, saying Mike raped her. Arrested, he says he's innocent, and in flashbacks we see both sides of the story. Written by
I rented this movie out of curiosity. As a twentysomething, I was hoping it might have something new to say about dating and my generation. Let's just say, I want the two hours of my life back!
This film is supposed to be a social commentary on the ups and downs of sex and dating life. However, the writers have created a soapy drama that focuses on a group of people I have nothing in common with. Their jobs are unrealistic, as are their dwellings (how can a struggling actress live on the beach?)
The acting, on the whole is terrible. The ONLY saving grace is Ron Livingston, who plays the eccentric Trent. Amanda Peet is better in indie fare (see Southie). Sean Flannery seems to disturb me in every movie he is in (is he a dead-ringer for David Cassidy or what?) The directing is at times fast-paced, and then slow mo (Amanda Peet on the dance floor was an unintentional laugh). Where is the director going?
This should have been a direct-to-video film. If this exemplifies twentysomething culture, consider me insulted.
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