Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler generate
sexual chemistry in "The Ugly Truth."
sexual chemistry in "The Ugly Truth."
Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler
Katherine Heigl
Sometimes it’s hard to hate Katherine Heigl. Of course, it should be easy – the Grey’s Anatomy actress has made a practice out of doing things that almost seemed designed to make her fans turn against her (withdrawing her name from Emmy competition because she felt she was not given awards-worthy material from the writers of the show that made her famous or criticizing Judd Apatow’s Knocked Up—aka the film that made her a movie star — for painting women as humorless and uptight shrews, etc.) But then you see a lightweight summer romantic comedy like The Ugly Truth and one is forced to admit that Ms. Heigl is actually pretty good in such fizzy fare, elevating predictable material into something almost worth watching. Almost. "The Ugly Truth" was directed by Robert Luketic ("Legally Blonde"), from a script by Nicole Eastman and the team of Kirsten Smith and Karen McCullah Lutz, the duo who wrote "Legally Blonde" and "The House Bunny."
Perhaps because it's less stylized than those films, "The Ugly Truth" isn't fizzy and fun -- it's vacuously snappy. Butler, the gruffly bearded Scottish-born hunk, hasn't done much since leading the Spartans in the semi-digitized war epic "300" (2007); this is the first chance anyone who didn't catch "RocknRolla" or "P.S. I Love You" has had to see what he's like in an ''ordinary'' role.
To judge from "The Ugly Truth," I'd say he's a potato-faced Russell Crowe with a lot less charm. Butler has a jovial twinkle, but because he's working so hard to nail an American accent, he doesn't so much enunciate his words as masticate them. He tears into every scene as if he were devouring a 20-ounce steak.
Heigl, who has mastered the art of acting insecure in order to make her porcelain-doll sexiness seem more offhand, has energy problems of her own. She's not just nervous, she's skittish; she can't relax for long enough to let the audience fall for her.
She and Butler certainly generate sexual chemistry: They're both so tightly wired, and attractive in such outsize opposite ways ("When Gladiator Met Barbie?" Okay, I'll stop), that when they kiss on an elevator, they look as if they can hardly wait to go to bed.
But does that mean they're right for each other? Or just ripe for an empty hot fling? Mike thinks that a ''refined'' woman like Abby needs a caveman to shake her up. He also thinks that's a finger in the eye of conventional wisdom. The ugly truth is that it's the ultimate chick-flick cliché.
Sometimes it’s hard to hate Katherine Heigl. Of course, it should be easy – the Grey’s Anatomy actress has made a practice out of doing things that almost seemed designed to make her fans turn against her (withdrawing her name from Emmy competition because she felt she was not given awards-worthy material from the writers of the show that made her famous or criticizing Judd Apatow’s Knocked Up—aka the film that made her a movie star — for painting women as humorless and uptight shrews, etc.) But then you see a lightweight summer romantic comedy like The Ugly Truth and one is forced to admit that Ms. Heigl is actually pretty good in such fizzy fare, elevating predictable material into something almost worth watching. Almost. "The Ugly Truth" was directed by Robert Luketic ("Legally Blonde"), from a script by Nicole Eastman and the team of Kirsten Smith and Karen McCullah Lutz, the duo who wrote "Legally Blonde" and "The House Bunny."
Perhaps because it's less stylized than those films, "The Ugly Truth" isn't fizzy and fun -- it's vacuously snappy. Butler, the gruffly bearded Scottish-born hunk, hasn't done much since leading the Spartans in the semi-digitized war epic "300" (2007); this is the first chance anyone who didn't catch "RocknRolla" or "P.S. I Love You" has had to see what he's like in an ''ordinary'' role.
To judge from "The Ugly Truth," I'd say he's a potato-faced Russell Crowe with a lot less charm. Butler has a jovial twinkle, but because he's working so hard to nail an American accent, he doesn't so much enunciate his words as masticate them. He tears into every scene as if he were devouring a 20-ounce steak.
Heigl, who has mastered the art of acting insecure in order to make her porcelain-doll sexiness seem more offhand, has energy problems of her own. She's not just nervous, she's skittish; she can't relax for long enough to let the audience fall for her.
She and Butler certainly generate sexual chemistry: They're both so tightly wired, and attractive in such outsize opposite ways ("When Gladiator Met Barbie?" Okay, I'll stop), that when they kiss on an elevator, they look as if they can hardly wait to go to bed.
But does that mean they're right for each other? Or just ripe for an empty hot fling? Mike thinks that a ''refined'' woman like Abby needs a caveman to shake her up. He also thinks that's a finger in the eye of conventional wisdom. The ugly truth is that it's the ultimate chick-flick cliché.
