‘Valentine’s Day,’ Why the hell not?
First things first, don’t ask me to give you a summary of the plot of “Valentine’s Day.” If pressed, here it goes: boy likes girl, girl doesn’t like boy; boy kind of likes girl but also likes another girl; boy wants to impress girl (though girl turns out to be a sex phone operator); boy wants to get over this; boy dislikes boy even though he really likes boy after he admits being gay at a press conference.
Second of all, don’t ask me to comment on what the film’s message adds up to. It’s a percolated post-modern conservatism (resist youth sex – but accept homosexual love – the film orders) and reinvention of the holiday as-such. Would it be impossible to imagine this as the future of film itself, as simple calendar events headlined by dozens of A-listers? And because of this, isn’t it true that “Valentine’s Day” is the most brutally honest popular film ever made?
Finally, don’t ask me to rate this film. Yes, it’s awful, predictable, contrived, and so forth … but aside from a religious event for Us Weekly monogamists everywhere; it’s a talking point in the same way the equally heavy-handed “He’s Just Not that Into You” (and, to a lesser extent, “Love Actually”) was. It’s the kind of film that is alright to secretly enjoy, if not simply because along with being bombarded with a celebrity every 2.5 seconds, it has the razor-thin density to excite even the most hollow of human souls. So, why the hell not?