Hola all. Massawyrm here.

Alright, alright. I know that what many of you think you have planned for Valentines weekend movie viewing – and it involves Nick Cage, a motorcycle and lots of fire. Of course, unless you’re the walking AICN stereotype and actually have not touched, nor seen in person, the genitalia of a live woman – then your plans are probably, shall we say, a bit more fluid. Because your girl? She could give a shit about Ghost Rider. She wants to see Music and Lyrics.

And how could she not? On the surface it has a fantastic pedigree. Drew Barrymore has a long history of making adorable feel good romantic comedies – and a strange knack for taking completely asinine premises or characters and absolutely making them work. She took a character with no short term memory in a fucking Adam Sandler film of all things and made her wonderfully endearing and anything but a one note joke.

Then opposite Barrymore is Hugh Grant – a man with the singular ability to both simultaneously strut like an arrogant peacock while an endless stream of self-deprecating one liners spew forth from his mouth. This sense of haughty self-loathing has made for some pretty wicked comedy in the past and the dry rapid fire staccato of his delivery makes his style very different than anything anyone else ever gives us. And while he certainly has his legions of haters, his worst films over the last decade have simply been mediocre – while his best are pretty much the cream of the crop of modern romantic comedies (namely his Working Title films – Love Actually, Notting Hill and About a Boy.)

Of course the hiccup in the pedigree comes from the film’s writer/director, longtime Sandra Bullock collaborator Marc Lawrence who as a screenwriter wrote such duds as Forces of Nature and The Out-of-Towners, not to mention both Miss Congeniality 1 & 2. As a director he wrote and directed one other film, the delightfully mediocre Two Weeks Notice. This guy has never written a truly wonderful romantic comedy, despite having tried for the last 8 years. That is, of course, until now.

That’s right. This one is actually pretty damn good. Lawrence has finally found his groove. And really I think that it comes from the soul of the material, as this thing is pretty bold in its tone and theme. You see, it’s a POP film about POP music that blatantly thumbs its nose at the elitists who so readily debase pop for its accessibility – while at the same time admonishes those who forget that pop can have a soul as long as you make it about a little more than business. In other words, Marc Lawrence has written a film about trying to come to grips with his own battle of art vs. commerce. Contrary to most art vs. commerce pieces, however, this one is told through a RomCom starring two bankable stars.

It is, for all intents and purposes, a delightful little romantic comedy that pats you on the shoulder and says You know what, dude? It’s totally cool that you like romantic comedies. Don’t listen to those douchebags. What do you say we fall in love all over again? Come on, I’ve got Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore waiting downstairs in the car. And it makes its argument pretty well. It never says that it’s better or that experimental or more artistic fare doesn’t have its merits – it’s just saying that no, there is nothing wrong with liking this stuff. It makes people happy. Live with it.

But at the same time, the film definitely goes in its own direction. Oh, sure, it has its fair share of predictable outcomes, but the sense of humor is unique and ultimately it becomes more of a story about friendship rather than love. In fact, by the third act the romance almost seems superfluous – like it is an inevitable conclusion of this friendship formed by two people that possess equal and opposite genitalia. Sure it has its moments of standard RomCom fare. The Oh look, she takes care of plants but keeps killing them, isn’t she crazy? moments. And frankly I’m surprised she doesn’t keep a ferret on a leash, because that’s the kind of quirky they make Barrymore. Of course, that character has ALWAYS worked for Barrymore – even at its most trite, even when it shouldn’t have.

But the bulk of the jokes actually come from someplace sharper and more culturally relevant. Through Grant’s trademark sardonic wit we’re treated to slightly higher brow jokes about the silliness inherent in the mid 80’s pop era, how we treat our once majestic has-beens and society's treatment of fame in general. And it’s the insight on this perspective that really makes this film what it is. No one has quite approached the aspect of fame from this direction before. The result is a laugh out loud, heartwarming, wonderfully charming little film that it is going to be very, very hard not to like.

Oh, and the music in this so nails the period that it’s hard to believe they’re not actually ripping off other songs. Of course, coming from Adam Schlesinger (Fountains of Wayne), the guy who composed that ever so god damned sticky That Thing You Do!, I’m really not surprised that Pop! Goes My Heart has been running through my head for a day and a half straight now. It’s the same attention to detail present in his previous work, only set in the highly comical 80’s.

Ultimately Music and Lyrics is much better than Marc Lawrence’s previous effort Two Weeks Notice, but not quite as perfect as Grant’s About a Boy. I’d place it squarely between the two, with any leaning pulling it just a bit more towards About a Boy. Smart, funny, and for those of you needing a Valentine’s Day date movie, a guaranteed 100% pain free date night experience. Definitely Recommended for anyone who loves romantic comedies or has a significant other that does, and even for those that only occasionally like them. This is that occasion. The only people who are gonna hate this are the ones who really try to.

Until next time friends, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.

Massawyrm

Got something for the Wyrm? Mail it here.