He’s Just Not That Into YOUR MOM.

I love romantic comedies. I LOVE THEM. I love them so much that I have been known to try and make things that are not romantic comedies, such as Law and Order: SVU, into romantic comedies. “I’m watching for the love!” I tell Tom cheerily, as the medical examiner wheels broken and mutilated bodies on gurneys across the screen. “The love and the laughs!”

As a connoisseur of the genre, it is a particular bummer and personal affront to me that so many romantic comedies are a steaming pile of crap. Take, for example, He’s Just Not That Into You, which I had the misfortune to watch over the weekend. When I first saw the trailer a year ago, a small hard knot of dread formed in the pit of my stomach and I thought to myself, “In the future, there is going to be some lonely night at home when you are going to succumb to this film. And when you do, it is probably going to make you barf.”

What do you know, I was right.

I hated this movie. I hated everything about it. If it was my boyfriend I would dump it and if it was a guy at a bar I would slip it the number for the Rejection Hotline. I hated it so much the whole time I was watching it I was like, holy CRAP, I need to write a blog post about this RIGHT AWAY.

I hated the fake-looking, too-perfect sets and the no sense of geographic location and the obvious, forgettable soundtrack. I hated that none of the women had careers except maybe they worked at an advertising agency that only advertised cinnamon, or something?  I hated how pathetic and neurotic and awful the chicks were, and how all the men except Ben Affleck were such asses, and even Ben Affleck was kind of an ass, but I’m willing to forgive him because Ben Affleck spends his whole life not being Matt Damon and whatever, I bet that’s hard. But he’s the only one I’m letting slide.

I hated that there was one guy with dark skin in it, and he played the construction worker. I hated the whole “this is my coven of sassy gay friends” thing. I hated Jennifer Aniston walking that dog down the aisle and wanting a husband so desperately, dear Jennifer Aniston: when you make movies about stuff like that it makes me feel uncomfortable about your real life. I hated everything about the way Jennifer Connolly chose to deliver her uptight, stereotypical, lazily-written wife lines. I hated everything about the way Ginnifer Goodwin did everything, which is unfortunate because normally I really like Ginnifer Goodwin. I do not normally like Scarlett Johansson, and whatever I didn’t like her in this either, but that’s no loss. Scarlett Johansson is like that girl at college who read one book by Foucault and now she’s all thinkin’ she’s bad, and also I am almost positive she’s secretly having nasty May-December sex with Woody Allen. I always want to yank her by the hair as hard as I can.

Important questions raised by the viewing of this movie:

1. Why is Bradley Cooper SO COMPLETELY DISGUSTING IN EVERYTHING HE DOES? I don’t mind a little smarminess (I’m looking at you, Clive Owen), but Jesus it’s like this guy is going to infect you with herpes through the television.

2. Why don’t Nora Ephron and Nancy Meyers write all the movies, ever?

3. Why doesn’t the Mac Guy do more things? He was pretty gross in this, too, but I was taken by his eyelashes and the way he delivered his boring, corny, inevitable you make me want to be a better man speech at the finale.

The biggest problem of all: Obviously now I have to watch Valentine’s Day so I can do a compare-and-contrast. MY LIFE IS SO HARD.