After seeing the preview before Sex and The City earlier this summer, I became amped for The Women, which comes out tomorrow. (I know, I know, don’t give me any of your shit.) I mean, the movie stars Meg Ryan, Debra Messing, Annette Bening (who, in the picture at right stolen from EW, is erroneously listed as “Diane Keaton”), and my favorites Jada Pinkett Smith and Eva Mendes. Cameos from Candice Bergen and Bette Midler. Written and directed by Diane English, who created one of my all-time favorite shows, Murphy Brown. Based on a classic play and equally classic 1939 film directed by George Cukor. And a cool gimmick in that there is not one single man onscreen in the film. The talent is there, the pedigree is there. Seems to be in a similar vein as Sex and The City. It’s going to be a smash, right??
Well, maybe not. For whatever reason, the film hasn’t warmed to its intended audience, which is, duh, women. And the critics … well, let’s just say the critics ain’t exactly heaping praise on this one either.
To steal from Defamer:
There’s no good parts for women, the old Hollywood saying goes, and apparently that even holds true for a chick movie featuring only parts for women called, uh, “The Women.” Hitting theaters tomorrow, the updating of the 1939 classic hasn’t exactly electrified the critical community: Its current Rotten Tomatoes score—hovering there like a pair of neglected ovaries—is 00%.
This saddens me.
Ah well, I still plan on seeing it this weekend. It’s been one of my personally anticipated releases of the year. As long as I’m entertained, I’ll be happy.