Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman are shown in a scene from “No Strings Attached.” (Photo credit: Paramount Pictures)
‘No Strings Attached’ makes relationships look difficult
The recipe goes as follows: boy meets girl, boy asks girl on a date, boy and girl develop feelings for one another, boy does something stupid and “loses” the girl, boy does something completely sweet and redeeming and wins said girl back, boy and girl live happily ever after (or until the credits roll). Such is the life of any romantic comedy. So, it was pleasantly surprising to have the girl in “No Strings Attached” play the guy role and royally screw the pooch. But no amount of gender-role switching, raunchy comedy or sexualized puns is going to save “No Strings Attached” from falling into utter obscurity.
Already, you can feel its lackluster plot being relegated to the same shelfs that house “Valentine’s Day,” “The Back-Up Plan” and “27 Dresses.” However, unlike like most of its ilk, this one is rated R, deservingly so because of the descriptive, sordid dialogue.
Not to be outdone by his last not-so-super film, director Ivan Reitman (“My Super Ex-Girlfriend”) spends an inordinate length of time introducing the two main characters, Emma (Natalie Portman, “Black Swan”) and Adam (Ashton Kutcher, “That ’70s Show”) in what amounts to an editing room nightmare. It comes across more as several different opening sequences rather than one continuous leap through time. But, eventually, the main plot is established. Emma, a doctor, and Adam, a film studio assistant, yet again bump into each other, realizing they are living in the same city. Shortly thereafter, Adam discovers that his father (Kevin Kline, “Definitely, Maybe”) is sleeping with his recent ex-girlfriend, which causes him to have a drunken existential crisis. This is where Emma comes into play: Adam just wants sex. In fact, he’s OK with the first girl in his address book who says “yes.” But, he blacks out before he can accomplish his mission, and wakes up naked in Emma’s apartment, not having slept with anyone. But that doesn’t stop him from having some morning-after fun with her. In a fresh twist on gender assignment, it’s Emma who wants to keep things simple and non-committal. The story then unfolds in a particularly predictable fashion. But it’s not shocking, given how boxed in everything is. Still, it’s kind of surprising how unsurprising it is.
However, the greatest shame of this movie is the opportunity it squanders. Comedic gems litter the otherwise bland plot, making you wonder what script writer Elizabeth Meriweather was busy doing in her down time.
But Emma’s quirky friends, who spread the gamut from the flamboyant gay man to the finger-snapping black girl, truly shine in the funniest of ways, and even at times pull the spotlight from Portman and Kutcher. More of this brisk, witty comedy would have gone a long way.
Portman’s performance was commendable (which is saying a lot considering what she had to work with), and it’s reminiscent of her “Saturday Night Live” “Natalie Raps” clip. Her logical view on sex and love is refreshing simply because of its straight-forwardness. Kutcher, however, should just go back to his Twitter battles and leave the rest of humanity in peace. You would think after “Killers” that Hollywood would have ridded the world of him, but alas, that’s not in the cards.
So, in the end, it shouldn’t surprise you to be disappointed with this classic cookie-cutter release (which had less substance than an issue of TV Guide). And if you leave the theater having already forgotten the title of this particularly forgettable movie, don’t be upset: You’re not the only one.
Two stars out of five.
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