If you asked me what I think of Julia Roberts I would tell you that I don’t. The number of minutes I spend thinking about Julia Roberts on a given day is almost always zero (unless Mystic Pizza is on. I love that flick!). She has been the most famous actress in the world for about 100 years now...which is impressive given that she is, as of this writing, only 52. Her position on the A-list is etched in stone at this point. With the exception of that one Hard Copy video of her getting wasted with an even more wasted Kiefer Sutherland from 30 years ago, she has managed to live a remarkably scandal-free existence for someone rarely out of the spotlight. No paparazzi pictures of her stumbling out of Limelight at 6 AM with icicles of the booger sugar hanging from her nose. No Ambien and Riesling-fueled racist tirades. She does have a brother who’s a total reefer addict but they are estranged so it’s cool. The lady keeps her house in order. While she’s pulling down $10 mil a pic in 2020 she’s nowhere near as popular as she was in the 1990’s. Few people will ever be as famous as Julia Roberts was in the 1990’s. We’re talking The Beatles on Ed Sullivan popular. Prince circa-Purple Rain. Cheap Trick Live at Budokan! Pretty Woman came out in March of 1990 and Julia Roberts was promptly handed the keys to the decade. She became “America’s Sweetheart” and the rest is the rest.
Here’s the thing, though: I looked at her filmography and couldn’t help but notice that the next, say, NINE movies she made after Pretty Woman are shit terrible. When is the last time you found yourself reaching for Dying Young? Or Mary Reilly? Or I love Trouble!? Most of these flicks pulled in some dough anyway ‘cuz Julia Roberts. She started to choose better-ish material toward the end of the decade and, in early 2001, won the Best Actress Oscar for Erin Brockovich. Last year I featured the Pretty Woman not-a-sequel Runaway Bride on VHS of the Week and said that it made Pretty Woman look like The Graduate. This week I decided to check out the 1997 Julia Roberts “comedy” My Best Friend’s Wedding, which makes Runaway Bride look like Casablanca. By sheer coincidence I somehow chose to watch a movie that was released on the VERY SAME DAY as last week’s pick for VHSOTW, Batman & Robin...which means that June 20th, 1997 was a day when not one but TWO of the worst films ever made slithered out of their fetid wombs and into multiplexes everywhere.
Unlike Batman & Robin, however, My Best Friend’s Wedding was well received. Both thumbs were discovered in the “up” position. On the back of the VHS box, mustachioed goblin Gene Shalit gushed that MBFW was “an enchanting romantic comedy! The entire cast is smashing!” Well, I just sat through all 105 minutes of it and the only smashing going on involved me smashing my head into my stone fireplace to try to concuss the memory of this movie out of my brain. MBFW is earth shatteringly bad. I spent every second of this movie in a state of boiling, red hot rage. I was Jesus throwing tables in the temple! I was Nora Ephron after getting too much cantaloupe in her fruit bowl at Union Square Cafe!
I’m not even sure where to begin...so I’ll start at the beginning: we open in the kitchen of a bustling fine dining Chicago restaurant. A chef who looks an awful lot like the late Charlie Trotter because he is the late Charlie Trotter is fussing over a plate of mid rare duck that is clearly about to be served to a VIP. A waiter whisks the plate into the dining room as the entire back of house staff gathers at the kitchen door to watch the intended diner’s reaction. Umm, dudes...there’s like 90 tickets on the line. Maybe start plating up some scallops! The duck is placed in front of Julia Roberts. She takes a bite and tells the server that she will write that the duck is “inventive and confident.” Ok so she’s a food critic, then? Ok well I have worked in restaurants for 20 years and I can tell you with confidence that most food critics prefer to remain incognito. And the ones who don’t sure as hell aren’t gonna offer a sneak preview of their review after one bite of duck! We’re two minutes in and I’m already calling bullshit on this movie! Julia Roberts is a food critic named Julianne but imma keep calling her Julia because it’s basically the same name. She’s out to dinner with her gay British best friend George, played by real life British gay man Rupert Everett, who is the best thing in this movie by a country mile. We know he is gay because Julia Roberts tells us that he is, apropos of nothing. Before they can move on to Trotter’s famous roasted figs with goats’ cheese ice cream Julia receives a voicemail from some cat named Michael on her Tickle Me Elmo-sized cell phone. George is all “whozzat?” Julia launches into this dissertation about how Michael is her best friend but they used to ball and he’s the best thing that ever happened to her but he’s a sports writer and always on the road (“For fucks sake..SHOW DON’T TELL”--my college screenwriting professor). She also mentions that they are both 27 years-old and have made a pact to marry if they haven’t each found someone else by age 28. Dude...TWENTY EIGHT!? What is this? 1945? Sounds like the clock is ticking, dummies.
Julia returns to her baller hotel suite (how much do they think 27 year-old food writers make??) and decides to drunk dial Michael. He tells her that he’s in town to profile Frank Thomas of the Chicago White Sox. “You know...The Big Hurt? he asks. She does not know. Speaking of big hurts--he also mentions that he has some other White Sox-related business to attend to. Specifically, marrying the team owner’s 20 year-old daughter. Oh, and the wedding is in FOUR DAYS...which is the perfect amount of time for a movie that runs an hour and forty-five minutes. For everyone else, though: GAH! Ever heard of a Save the Date, ya dick?? Julia is so stunned she falls off the goddamn bed, thus displaying her mastery of slapsticky physical comedy. Neat. When she gets up off her ass she proudly proclaims that she has “four days to break up a wedding!” I immediately start to read the instructions on the barf bag.
The next day we meet this Michael chump, who is played by a man who is not Dylan McDermott, Dermot Mulroney. Right away these two ding dongs are just all over each other like shit on rice. They head out to O’Hare to pick up Michael’s college student fiancee Kim, who materializes in the form of Cameron Diaz. She’s tall, pretty, and blonde (and also 25 years old...not 20. Mulroney is also 33 and not 27 but who’s here to break balls? ME! That’s who). She wants to make Julia her maid of honor just to be a pal to Michael’s pal. They hop into Kim’s BMW and head straight to the South Side of Chicago, home of Comiskey Park. There’s this subplot where her family is trying to use their billions to help stop gun violence in the more dangerous parts of....BAH I’m just fuckin’ with you! To quote Taye Diggs...if this movie were any whiter it would be clear.
Michael brings the ladies to the bridal shop to get fitted for dresses. There, he walks in on Julia in her bra and undies and tells her that she looks great without clothes on. Julia is all “ohh yeah...I got this shit in the BAG!” She also wears sunglasses indoors...just in case you already didn’t think she is the worst person alive. I mean...SERIOUSLY!? We’ve barely scratched the surface and this Juliette character is already rocketing up the list of the most loathsome big screen villains of all time. She’s like a cross between Hans Gruber and Jar Jar Binks...but with no sense of humor. Did they think that she would still be likable just because she is Julia Roberts?? On the way back to their hotel Julia and Kim compare notes about Michael: “ohh...does he still snore like a banshee? Yes! But I made him stop smoking cigars in bed! Swoon!” Nowhere anywhere in real life is this something that happens! I can just imagine a fleet of my ex-girlfriends talking shop about me over margaritas. “Does he still leave Dorito cheese fingerprints all over the pillows? No, I make him wet nap his hands before bed! Cheers!”
On the way back to their hotel suites Kim stops the elevator between floors to confront Julia. “I’ll never live up! He’s got you on a pedestal...but he has me in his arms!” I’m thinking Kim is gonna put a blade in Julia’s side and we can call it a day and go home but noooo. Julia says that she can trust her and Kim just steps in it like a pile of horseshit. Here I should mention that, while I’m not one to shame someone based on their appearance, I have to say that Julia Roberts’ hair looks TERRIBLE in this movie! It’s like she told her stylist to make her look like Jon Bon Jovi circa the New Jersey album and they did exactly that. Later they all go out to a karaoke bar where they must not be too strict about checking ID’s. Either that or Kim is simply too wealthy and white for state liquor laws. True story: one time I waited on former Texas Rangers owner Tom Hicks and he insisted I serve his 15 year-old son a bottle of Barolo because “that’s just what we’re used to.” Then he left me a 10% tip, the rotten motherfucker. Anyway, Julia and Michael continue to eye rape each other all night long. Every story they tell goes something like “remember when we went to Mexico...and BANGED ALL NIGHT!?” Julia then forces Kim to sing some Burt Bacharach song (the one The White Stripes did on Elephant) even though it is 1997 and the only songs sung by anyone that year were by Puff Daddy. She sings like a Muppet with a severe head cold and Julia is all “ha ha got you bitch” but the crowd goes wild for Kim anyway ‘cuz this is a stupid fucking movie.
Julia and Michael send Kim away from the movie for the next 45 minutes so they can make sex faces at each other. Michael explains that daddy White Sox wants to give him a front office job and a phat salary but he’s hesitant. Says he’s cool making $30k a year...having to fly off to Atlanta to interview John Rocker at the drop of a hat. Julia tells Kim that Michael really wants the job with the Sox...which is a damn dirty lie...so she tries to hook him up. When Michael hears about the new job offer he explodes and screams at Kim and makes her cry. “What, I’m not good enough for you!?” You know what? These two assholes are both assholes and deserve each other. I hope Cameron Diaz dumps this clown and marries the lead singer of Good Charlotte or something. What’s that? They are? Oh...cool...
Just as I’m just about to set my VCR on fire Rupert Everett parachutes back into the movie...and not a moment too soon! Julia tells Michael that George is her fiancee! The entire cast goes out for a rehearsal lobster dinner (Chicago being so famous for its lobster and all) where Michael acts like a sullen prick. George takes the temperature of the room and decides that what this movie really needs is a scene where an entire restaurant full of people breaks into song. So that’s exactly what happens. George starts singing “I Say a Little Prayer” and the busboy jumps on the piano and all of the other diners join in and the waiters start swaying side to side with, like, lobster claw oven mitts on their hands and COME ONNNN!!! If this happened in my joint their check would be dropped before they got to the first chorus. She’s got Michael all good and jealous but then George leaves the movie again (don’t goooo!!!) and Julia immediately tells George that they aren’t really engaged. So what did we just watch then??
The next day Michael and Julia take a boat cruise down the Chicago River and talk about how crazy in love they are with each other. “We never even got to have our own song” she tells him. He hears this and starts to gently croon “The Way You Look Tonight” which is fine except that it is the MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON! They start to slow dance and almost kiss. They like...put their lips together but don’t move them...not unlike the Mormon practice of Soaking (look it up). Now Julia is super horned out for villainy! She sneaks into Kim’s dad’s office and writes a phony email from Kim’s dad to Michael’s boss asking if he can buy him out or something stupid. Unfortunately it’s 1997 and email is some tricky shit so she hits “save draft” instead of delete. When she realizes her mistake she enlists Michael to try to break into the building...of the president of an MLB team...under the guise of having to fax some important paperwork into her nonspecific office. Dude...I’m pretty sure there’s at least three Kinko’s on Wabash. The email gets sent anyway and Michael’s boss calls to warn him that the White Sox want to buy him and he’s furious and decides to call the wedding off because he’s a crazy animal! Just take the job, STUPID--the Sox are gonna win the World Series in like 7 years! Julia realizes she done effed up bad so she goes out in the hall to rip butts and make smalltalk with a bellhop played by future Emmy winner Paul Giamatti. He tells her that his grandma used to say “this too shall pass?” Oh ho! Was your grandma’s name Abraham Lincoln??
So the wedding is supposedly off but when Julia wakes up the following morning she finds that the wedding brunch is very much ON...‘cuz if there’s one thing white people love it’s fuckin’ brunch. She rolls up cannons blasting, wearing a long-sleeved V-neck belly shirt and dungarees with a pair of sunglasses on her head and another pair tucked into her cleavage. What the second pair of shades is for is never explained. It’s perhaps the biggest cinematic mystery this side of “what was in the briefcase in Pulp Fiction”...except not at all. She’s all “I thought you said you were calling it off?? What’s with the mimosas and Lox??” He’s like “oh yeah...I am...why don’t you go tell her while I finish my eggs benny?” Julia takes Kim asides and instead starts speaking in nonsensical food analogies: She says that Kim is creme brulee and that she’s just Jello. Seriously, you’re a food writer and that’s all you could come up with!? Kim tells Julia to tell Michael that she loves him...so now we’ve got a 7th grade game of relationship telephone...but at a billion dollar mansion with a string quartet. Julia ignores this and tells Michael that SHE loves him! Julia Roberts loves Michael. They start sucking face but OH NO!!!...Kim totally sees them necking! She jumps in her Beamer and takes off and Michael takes off after her and Julia steals a bread truck and takes off after the two of ‘em! Dude, you can’t just steal a bread truck! It’s bad enough some poor motherfucker has to schlep bread to some bougie wedding for $7 bucks an hour. Now he’s probably out of a job on account of the stolen truck!
Julia chases the peeps to the train station where I guess Kim boards a train to somewhere...like there’s any chance this billionaire’s daughter has ever taken public transportation! Julia confesses all of her abject shittiness to Michael, who proceeds to call her “the puss in the mucus that feeds on pond scum.” So we’re finally on the same page, Michael and I. Julia hears this and slinks back to NYC to lunch aggressively at the Russian Tea Room. JUST KIDDING! She pulls 180 and decides that Michael MUST marry Kim because HUH!?? Of all of the dumb shit I’ve heard in life this one takes the (wedding) cake! Julia tracks Kim down at Comiskey Park and they have a confrontation in the ladies’ crapper. Kim calls Julia a bitch and a two-faced, big-haired food critic (See! I’m not the only one who thinks her ‘do is jacked up!). Ten seconds later they are hugging it out and all I can think about it is the fuckin’ bread truck!? Like...did she just valet it at the ballpark?? Is it getting ticketed and towed??
In defiance of all that is logical and reasonable in the world the wedding goes forward as planned. Julia is still the maid of honor which means she gets to give a speech. She says that she didn’t have a chance to buy them a wedding present...probably because she just spent the last four days trying to sabotage said wedding. Instead, she offers them the gift of song...and it’s the SAME SONG she and Michael slow danced to on the friggin’ boat two days earlier!!! Enjoy your sloppy seconds, bitch. Jesus Herbert Christ on a cross! Like my dad used to say every time we walked by a Brookstone at the mall: That’s some unbelievable shit! Kim and Michael are ferried away in a white Rolls Royce. Julia receives a surprise phone call from George...who has actually been at the wedding all along! (with no invitation? RUDE!). They slow dance and I totally expected him to announce that he’s no longer gay and also in love with her...because this is a stupid fucking movie. I would’ve spit out my chamomile tea! Yeah, I forgot to buy alcohol before this two year quarantine started. Do you have any idea what it’s like to try to watch a movie like this sober!? If you’ve just read the last 3000 words then you probably do. The end.