Blu-Ray Review: ‘The Ugly Truth’ is Neither Funny Nor Romantic

CHICAGO – Here’s an alleged romantic comedy as clueless about romance as it is about comedy. It has a premise designed to illustrate how women think with their minds, while men think with their nether regions. Yet the male and female leads of “The Ugly Truth” are practically indistinguishable from each other. They’re both overly judgmental, profoundly self-absorbed, and thoroughly reprehensible. Neither of them would dream of dating a member of the opposite sex that didn’t meet their rigid list of superficial expectations based on physical features. These two people are clearly made for each other.

Blu-Ray Rating: 1.5/5.0

Too bad they’re played by Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler, two of the most energetic and generally appealing stars in Hollywood. Their inherent likability directly conflicts with their unlikable characters. Heigl plays a TV producer who has all the warmth of Kate Gosselin, while Butler plays a local cable call-in host who has all the sexual wisdom of Frank T.J. Mackey. Heigl’s network improbably hires Butler as a correspondent in an effort to boost ratings, thus setting up a “His Girl Friday”-style battle of the sexes with four-letter words. But that quickly changes when Heigl meets her sexy neighbor, and desperately seeks dating advice from Cyrano de Butlerac. An excess of forced slapstick ensues, including a scene involving vibrating panties that tries to top the restaurant scene from “When Harry Met Sally,” and fails spectacularly.

The Ugly Truth was released on Blu-Ray and DVD on November 10th, 2009.
Photo credit: Sony Pictures Home Video

What is Heigl doing in this picture? Does she consider her uptight, prissy character to be an upgrade from the uptight, prissy character she considered “sexist” in the flawed but truly funny “Knocked Up”? She complained that Apatow’s guys got to have all the fun, while the women were depicted as shrews. In “The Ugly Truth,” Heigl’s gal pal playfully gyrates behind her boyfriend, a movement directly reminiscent of the male buddies gyrating to one of Heigl’s phone calls in “Knocked Up.” This moment apparently is meant to illustrate that girls can have as much raunchy fun as boys. That’s a valid point, but it also helps to illustrate the film’s major flaw: Heigl’s character is no different than Butler’s. She responds to men purely on the basis of looks, and is willing to drop her convictions in order to bed the GQ model next door, who wouldn’t put up with her tiresome shenanigans if she wasn’t so smokin’ hot.

The Ugly Truth was released on Blu-Ray and DVD on November 10th, 2009. Photo credit: Sony Pictures Home Video

Everything about the film reeks of phoniness. Russell Carpenter’s cinematography doesn’t even bother to obscure the exaggerated lighting and obvious green screen effects that make the entire film look as if it was shot on a soundstage. The screenplay, credited to three women, is constructed out of the most ancient cliches, and resorts to having a cat literally move the plot not once, but twice! The film is routinely laughable at all the wrong moments, particularly when Butler finds himself cross-examined (and on the verge of showing tangible emotion) during an interview with…Craig Ferguson?! Apparently Conan O’Brien wasn’t considered incisive enough.

In the spirit of the film’s rampant artificiality, I’d like to out another phony: Jesse D. Goins, who plays one of the Heigl’s co-workers. Goins is not only a veteran of film and TV, but also one of the most overused commercial actors in America. In just the last few years, Goins has confessed to having erectile dysfunction, revealed his love of working at Wal-Mart, and plugged various products for Cingular and Verizon, all the while never bothering to change his appearance.

“The Ugly Truth” is presented in 1080p High Definition (with a 2.40:1 aspect ratio), is accompanied by English, Spanish, French and Portuguese audio tracks, and comes with a digital copy. The BD-Live-enabled disc includes a gag reel, two alternate endings, deleted scenes, and select scene commentary from Luketic and producer Gary Lucchesi. Two pompous featurettes attempt to convince viewers that the filmmakers know a great deal about “the art of comedy” and modern relationships. Clearly, the film proves otherwise.

By MATT FAGERHOLM
Staff Writer
HollywoodChicago.com