Truth be told, I only rented this film because I wanted to see Bradley Cooper naked, and to catch a glimpse of my beloved Queensboro Bridge. Yes, Bradley was gloriously naked, though only in a series of five second, poorly lit flashbacks of him screwing Drea De Matteo from behind, then from the side and then on top. Some of my favorites, but really, couldn’t they have lit the room better?
Also, no dice on the bridge.
Cooper aside, this movie, also featuring a series of vignettes directed by a slew of disparate directors (some good, some – not so much – Natalie Portman directs one of the most pretentious and obvious vignettes), is the North American counter-part to the cutesy Paris, I Love You (also featuring Natalie Portman!). That movie had two beautiful vignettes but they weren’t worth the twelve bucks I spent at The Sunshine Cinema – a ‘art cinema’ theater on Houston Street. It’s American counter-part was maudlin from scene one and did not come close to representing the myriad wonders, atrocities, devastation (both the good and bad kind), joy, hysteria, warmth, comfort, horror and so much more that one can, and does, feel for New York City and it’s harried denizens.
Had it done so (and been a more Cooper-centric movie), I’d be screaming “New York, I Love You” as it stands…it was barely worth the gas I wasted driving to my nearest Red Box to pick it up. And it even made me feel fortunate to no longer be living in the city.
{Vag Hampton watches, then writes about movies.}
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