BRIDE WARS (2009)

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"The shrieks of estrogenic joy coming from the theater were enough to shrivel any proper man’s business out of physical existence. This one’s strictly for the ladies. Guys need not apply. "

I haven't seen anything like this in quite some time. The mostly all-female crowd that attended this particular screening screamed and squealed their way through Bride Wars' economic running time. Afterwards, they spilled into the parking lot grasping each other's forearms, loudly whispering about their own upcoming marriages and love affairs. Bride Wars is girl crack. Its bitch catnip. And director Gary Winick is a master at Gyno manipulation. He knows exactly which strings to pull. Which jokes to throw. Which buttons to push. And which noises to make. His plot and its comedy are as old as the Golden Age of Hollywood. And his actresses are true road tested movie stars. Together, this team has managed to produce one of the most efficient female-only laughers seen in the last ten years. If the audience response from my one screening is any indication, this is going to be a big hit with the ladies. It is a chick flick in every sense of the word. And its non-inclusive ways will have most men running for the comforts of the box office bathroom.

Seriously. I just didn't get it. First of all, I thought the stated plot was ludicrous. Here, we have Kate Hudson and Anne Hathaway as two best friends that share everything. Since birth they've dreamed of having a spectacular white wedding. It's all they've ever talked about. And it seems to be a shared passion. One of the founding staples of their hard to penetrate relationship. Now in their late twenties, they have both found true love and they both want to get married in the same building. Though, a few weeks apart as to not manipulate or take anything away from the other's nuptials. All is good until their wedding coordinator Marion St. Claire (Candice Bergen) mucks things up. It seems the woman's secretary has accidentally scheduled both weddings for the exact same day at the exact same time. Uh-oh! Now we are going to have to sit through eighty minutes of bitchery and backstabbing shenanigans while the two woman realize what's really important in their lives.

The clapping and laughs never stopped once the minute-rice plot was propped up in front of my audience. The crowd had been herded out of the mall across the street. They had been hand picked by Movieview, a group that often test screens films in the Los Angeles area. And the results must have been spectacular. These women, specifically chosen to watch this particular film, seemed to love every minute of it. And I never heard one of them question the sore plotting, or the precisely calculated outcome of the screenplay. In Bride Wars' opening moments, it's made clear that these two woman love each other. And that they have the same goal in life. Marriage. They've literally played out the scenario a bazillion times up in their parents' attics. It makes all the sense in the world that they should share this union and double up. But no. Why? Because then there wouldn't be a movie.

There is a stilted reason for them not wanting to make their nuptials a communal ceremony. Hathaway's Emma is a workaday schoolteacher with limited funds and a blue-collar boyfriend. She has always stood in the shadow of her best friend Liv, played to bitchy perfection by a bang-trimmed Hudson. Liv is a high-powered executive with a rich and talented boyfriend. For once in her life, Emma wants to enjoy her own moment in the sun. Away from the attention that is usually heaped on Liv. Thus, a battle of the wills is born. Enemy lines are drawn. And some rather slaptastic scenes are bridal showered across the screen. For two best friends, they sure do get rather catty with each other. And again, I just didn't get it. They are forced to split friends and wedding guests. One gets a bigger ring than the other (oh, man, you should have heard the squeals of delight booming from the audience when each engagement ring is presented on screen). One gets fat, one turns orange. And you'd think it would stop sometime before they walk down the isle. But the madness keeps going, all the way up the ramp. It's kind of crazy. Really, it is. These chicks must have attended Philomath Middle School when they were younger.

Like any good comedy with a smidgeon of reasoning, their actions against each other are not inconsequential. When all is said and done, there is a majestic destination and reasoning behind Liv and Emma's fistacuffs. For if they had not totally gone insane, Emma would never have discovered that she is a selfish twat. And that she doesn't really love her fiance. While the film sort of sets Liv up as the villainous, Emma is quick to pick up the slack in the last half by presenting herself as a truly ugly person. Being a man, I quite agreed with the parting words spoken by the man in her life. He calls it as he sees it. Of course, the women in the audience didn't like what he had to say. And they booed the poor bastard off screen. Then they cheered jubilantly when Emma hooked up with Liv's brother.

What? Huh?

Again. I didn't get it. I didn't understand why these women were so happy to see her go off with her best friend's brother. He just looks like some dude. And their relationship is never fully established throughout the tight course of Liv and Emma's warring. Did Emma know Liv's brother growing up? She must have. Did they have feelings for each other? They must have. Do we every get in inclination to this hidden romantic relationship that only blossoms in the last reel? Nope. Never. Its just magic, I guess.

If you are a woman, it's nearly guaranteed that you will fawn over and fall in love with this comedy of errors. If you're a guy? Forget about it. Stay home. Let your betrothed make it a girl's night out. If your better half is at war with her best friend, and you are forced to tag along through this wretched experience, just know, an hour in, Anne Hathaway does one of the sexiest dances of her career. And its well worth the admission price. As it stands, Bride Wars gets a Boo! from me. But all you chicks are going to dig it. Sure enough.

(All of B. Alan Orange's reviews are based on the Boo! or Whoop-doo! evaluation system.)