(I’ve heard of women being driven crazy by weddings, but this is just ridiculous…)
CAST: Julia Roberts, Dermot Mulroney, Cameron Diaz, Rupert Everett, Susan Sullivan.
DIRECTOR: P.J. Hogan
WARNING: SPOILERS and extraordinarily stupid behavior right up ahead…
Oh, the singularly unique appeal of Julia Roberts. I can’t exactly define it, but I know it when I see it. And I’ve only seen it on her. No one else. Which, I guess, is what makes it singular and unique. Duh. And the whole world witnessed it full-force in PRETTY WOMAN. Her next two films, FLATLINERS and SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY, quickly proved that she was no fluke. Even through misfires and disappointments like DYING YOUNG, MARY REILLY, I LOVE TROUBLE, and THE PLAYER she maintained an almost supernatural magnetism. Which many other upcoming young actresses were eager to duplicate, to little success. One after another, all these “next Julia Roberts” fell by the wayside. Especially in the mid-to-late 90’s when Roberts had a career resurgence that reminded the whole world of the one-of-a-kind nature of her appeal. MY BEST FRIEND’S WEDDING in particular does an excellent job of this, because of how it tweaks the standard romantic comedy formula and dares to paint its star (and her mega-watt smile) in some decidedly unfavorable shadings. Anyone who can survive that kind of gauntlet with her likability intact, and her star power undimmed, is lightning in a bottle.
Julianne “Jules” Potter (Julia Roberts - Gee, you think they wrote the movie for her?) is a famous and feared New York food critic who has all the accoutrements that a single girl in the Big Apple could want: (1) a glamorous job, (2) a face like Julia Roberts, and (3) deeply fabulous gay Best Friend # 2 in George (Rupert Everett). What Jules does not have is a boyfriend and, if she’s to be believed (later on, we will see that she is most definitely not), that’s a-okay with her. At dinner one night, after having made the chef and staff piss their pants in terror over their entrees, Jules shares with George that she once promised her Best Friend # 1, Michael (Dermot Mulroney), that if they are both still single by the time they’re 28 - they will marry each other. Now, first of all, I’m not a firm believer in marriage to begin with, and I think that it should only be entered into if doing so will get a Great White Shark to stop gnawing on your leg. Of course, the Shark will just be replaced by another one until the eventual divorce goes through, if you know what I mean. Anyway, with all my suspicion and derision towards marriage, it won’t come as surprise as that I believe this little pact between Jules and Michael is about as sensible as two straight teenage boys making a pact to fuck each other if they haven’t lost their virginity to girls by the time they’re 17.
Sure enough, Michael calls Jules in the middle of the dinner - and leaves a message that they have to talk. And - oh, by the way - Jules’ 28th birthday is in two weeks. Could it be that... Nah! That would not only be stupid as hell, but awfully convenient, too. Like something that would only happen in a... movie. By the way, you can tell this film is from the mid-90’s because Jules’ cell phone is the size of a VCR. Anyhow, she finally calls Michael back, expecting the worst - the worst being a proposal. Much to her surprise, though, Michael does not propose. Instead, he: (1) tells Jules he’s met a fabulous girl, and (2) he’s crazy about her, and (3) they’re getting married in a few days in a grand traditional wedding, and (4) Jules needs to be there. To say that Jules is surprised would be like saying that Jimmy Hoffa is a missing person. And I feel her pain, since the only last-minute weddings I know about are the ones that take place in Vegas under the cover of darkness and neon. At any rate, Michael’s declaration flicks a switch in Jules, who promptly: (1) spazzes out like a champ, (2) decides that she actually loves Michael and wants to marry him herself, and (3) the bitch called the bride - whoever she is - might as well be Dead… Meat….
As George drops off Jules at the airport, he just patiently shakes his head in that benign manner that gay folk treat their often silly straight friends. So, like some color-coordinated patron saint, George sends his pal to fall on her face - hard. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind, eh? Later, Jules lands in Chicago where she is greeted by Michael (Dermot Mulroney), and Kimmie (Cameron Diaz) - his bride-to-be. Kimmie, for her part, greets Jules with such over-the-top glee that you have to wonder immediately if she’s either: (1) brain damaged, or (2) a transvestite that can really pass. You can’t help but share Jules’ shock when she gazes upon the bouncy spectacle that is Kimmie, as if she’s thinking “He’s ditching me for this?” On top of that, Kimmie is also apparently a shitty driver - and an even shittier Karaoke singer. The latter is something that Jules’ exploits to try to get Michael to see his bride-to-be in a less than flattering light. Unfortunately, Kimmie is one of the those people that are even more lovable when they look like a mega-dork. You can practically hear Jules’ teeth gnashing as she realizes that she’ll need to be more vicious.
Plan B for our morally-questionable "heroine" is to set up Kimmie - by having the latter ask her father to offer Michael a job in his company, thereby implying Kimmie wants him to be part of the family business and not his own person. Which, evidently, is the next thing to dying as far as Michael is concerned. Freaking out like a champ, he basically cusses Kimmie out - an act which (1) plays right into Jules’ devious agenda, and (2) calls into question his long-term viability as a husband. Unfortunately, in typical female fashion, this makes Kimmie seem to want him even more. She just about falls on her knees to beg for his forgiveness - and if he hadn’t given it in time, I’m sure she would’ve blown him for it right there in the middle of the restaurant. Anyway, this scene ends with the lovebirds kissing and making up. And Jules steaming in her seat and gnashing her teeth - realizing that she’ll need to be even more vicious.
Frantic now, Jules makes a desperate call back to Mission Control. By Mission Control, I mean NYC where George is doing what every sane gay man would do without their straight harridan female friend around to terrorize them - throw a party with his fabulous gay friends. Unfortunately, Jules crashes this celebration with her pathetically frantic message. Prompting George to rethink that “be cruel to be kind” strategy. Nope, he decides to switch to the “wouldn’t miss this train wreck for the world” strategy - and flies out to Chicago to see what kind of hanky-panky his nitwit straight bitch friend has gotten into now. Which, given the whackjob extraordinaire that had been dormant in Jules, is surely considerable. This is confirmed when George arrives in the Windy City to be eventually introduced to Michael, Kimmie, and her family as... Jules’ fiancee. Much to George’s chagrin - because at this point he realizes that there’s no saving Jules from herself. So he does what any good friend would do - embarrass the living shit out of her. He does this by (1) slapping Kimmie on the ass and complimenting her mom’s outfit with flamboyant adjectives, (2) leading an entire restaurant in a rendition of “I Say A Prayer” - surely one of the gayest songs ever - and (3) basically acting like someone who will eventually cheat on her with the hunky gardener or pool guy. Exhausted by the debacle, Jules takes George to the airport afterward - telling him to basically go fuck himself forever and a day. George takes the high road and just mentally flips her THE FINGER, but also says what is surely the most sagacious thing to ever sputter out of a gay man’s mouth (besides an unexpected blast of semen, that is): “Tell him you love him, Jules. Tell him you love him - and let the chips fall where they may…”
Happily, Jules actually listens to George for once. During an exceedingly lovely scene on a Chicago tour boat, Jules tries to muster up the courage to tell Michael she loves him - but fumbles it. The moment passes, heartbreakingly, and in this bit of acting, we see why Julia Roberts is the fucking star that she is. Sadly, after this brush with common sense, Jules goes back to being the psycho biyatch from hell that she seems more at home with. At this point, we the audience begin to suspect the worse: our heroine is the villain. Last time I checked, trying to ruin someone’s wedding - however chirpy and annoying they may be - is wrong, wrong, wrong. But Jules is so far gone by now that she wouldn’t know the right thing to do if it came up and shoved a restaurant menu up her ass.
This time, she contrives to sneak into Kimmie’s dad’s office and forges an email that makes it sound like he’s trying to get Michael’s bosses to fire him from the newspaper he writes for. If you’re wondering how in the fucking hell Jules can get this to work, then you obviously underestimate a crazed banshee. I sure did. At any rate, this also backfires. Finally, Jules has no choice but to follow George’s advice: tell Michael that she loves him. Which she does on the day of the wedding at Kimmie’s parents’ estate. Unfortunately, Kimmie glimpses this liplock and correctly surmises this to be a pre-meditated groom-jacking - and runs off. Michael give chase, with Jules chasing him. And in one final effort to get Jules to do the right thing, George berates her over the phone - by telling her she’s not “the one.” This seems to flick another switch in Jules’ little brain - and she confesses everything to Michael when she catches up to him. This leads to the sublimely satisfying moment when Michael compares Jules to “the pus that infects the fungus that feeds on pond scum.” Oh, snap.
At any rate, Michael and Kimmie both outwardly forgive Jules for being a Psycho Bitch From Hell, and mentally note to never have anything to do with her again. I mean, who knows when she might have a relapse and, I don’t know, throw their first-born off a bridge or something? Long story short, Michael and Kimmie dash off to their honeymoon - no doubt telling their driver to peel rubber because Jules might just tail them. Fortunately for them, Jules has been so drained by her incessant scheming and conniving that all she can do is sit at a table at the reception and drown her sorrows in cake and champagne. Suddenly, an unexpected phone call reveals that George has actually flown back to Chicago - to do the following: (1) dance with Jules and (2) make her feel better, and then later (3) find any drunken groomsmen to take advantage of. And you thought George was a saint. Saint Whore, maybe….
BUT, SERIOUSLY: If PRETTY WOMAN created Julia Roberts’ image, MY BEST FRIEND’S WEDDING tweaked it considerably. Finally allowed to play snarky instead of sweet (while still retaining a little of that to be likable) and given more of an edge, she delivers a nicely-layered and complex performance that is constantly walking the fine line between sympathetic and hissable. While the story is fairly thin and uncomplicated, the cast and their undeniable vivacity lend it some heft that it may not have had otherwise. Dermot Mulroney is okay as Michael, if just a little bland - it’s never entirely clear why Jules would be suddenly so bananas over him. However, everyone else knocks it out of the park. Cameron Diaz lends Kimmie much affability and perkiness, but tempers the latter with an endearing vulnerability that makes you root for her in the face of Jules’ onslaught. But the film is deftly stolen by Rupert Everett as George - who is the “straight” man in relation to Jules’ high-strung control freak. Anytime he’s onscreen, the film soars even more. He has a great rapport with Julia Roberts. A cast of colorful character actors fill out the role of Michael and Kimmie's family, lending warm support to the main cast.
Furthermore, the script cleverly tweaks the rom-com formula and infuses the story with something approaching suspense - will our protagonist actually get what she wants despite all the dastardly things she does? It's a brave choice to end a film with Julia Roberts not getting the guy. I should also highlight the scene with Jules and Michael on the Chicago tour boat - where Jules is given her first shot at laying bare her feelings to Michael. Accompanied by James Newton Howard’s beautiful score, this moment cuts right through to the heart - and immediately makes the Jules-Michael relationship into a solid emotional center for the film. Another wonderful scene occurs later at Kimmie’s estate - when Jules is given her second - and, most likely, final - chance to tell Michael that she loves him. These two scenes are heartbreakingly good - and clearly shows why there hasn't been - and will likely never be - any actress to rival Julia Roberts for sheer emotional magnetism and hypnotic star power. See for yourself.
