True Confessions of a Movie Critic

As I was enjoying a leisurely breakfast and flipping the channels this morning, I came across Hope Floats on VH-1, a Southern dramedy that stars two people I normally like a lot—Sandra Bullock and Harry Connick Jr.

Unfortunately, their inherent likability didn’t quite make up for how truly bad this movie is, but I thought I’d give it another chance. After all, some movies (like Zoolander or Elizabethtown did for me) get better the more you watch them, right?

But after watching all the overly dramatic acting (that’s you, Ms. Bullock), the overabundance of big, toothy smiles that’s ideally supposed to make up for such corny dialogue (that’s you, Mr. Connick) and countless references to wearable roadkill (I sooo wish I was kidding), I pretty much arrived at the same conclusion I’d made when I paid money to see it in the theater.

Yes, I hate it just as much.

But watching it did bring to mind one of my all-time favorite lines in a movie review: Hope floats, and so does poop.

Yeah, it’s crass but I laugh every time I think of it (and secretly hope that I’ll come up with something as gut-bustingly funny in one of my movie reviews). So I guess I can thank Sandy and Harry for making a flick worthy of a snarky observation like that, right?

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