ThurstonHunger

Somehow my wife had missed the barrage of ads that I had seen, so while the marketing team may have failed, it did allow me to succeed in offering this up as a selection for the most recent Valentine's Day.

It went over better than the chocolates I had bought her, and truth be told while I've skipped out on the 2nd and 3rd sequels, I was able to pick up and enjoy this with her, thanks to a stellar cast and enough snappy dialog to balance the sappy plot.

The message is well received for women of a certain age that you can have it all : adorable children, a triumphant return to a vocation where you excel, a miracle nanny, the dancing spirit of a 15 year old, a dead husband...

Renee Zellweger hasn't lost a beat (remarkable in many ways besides the cosmetic; how many American actors/actresses get asked back to do a British accent). Her life is so oddly charmed, she may come across charming. To me, I felt like she's squeezing her eyes so tightly to sleepwalk past the minor (and one major) nightmares towards her dream destiny.

But I get that her cheery cuteness is cut with the right amount of self-doubt and acerbic friends to keep the calories down. And her chin up.

The real message of course puts a child ahead of the sexy/batty/charmed/charming Mom, and a good rule for films like this is if the kids could have been rewritten as pets, would it have been basically the same.

Clearly that is not the case both young actors, especially the elder boy, are meant to connect with actual heart and they do. Better than a chocolate heart or a romp on a heart-shaped bed with Hugh Grant.

His role really sets the tone for the movie, more than a lingering flirtation with naughty, but ultimately a fixation on niceness. So perhaps expect a DVD copy in your stocking at a different holiday.

If you are looking for something a bit different, and certainly very different in the sappy sports centered film, this is worth a watch. Knowing less about it likely would pay off, and while the film wants to be brash, taking a step back after watching might pay off.

Still reading...alright then no spoilers follow but again maybe just check it.

From the neon orange splash page to the insistent techno soundtrack ( I did not know about Trent Reznor's involvement till after the fact) to the camera tricks and tropes, this film aims for an adrenaline kick. Honestly it took a while for me to find the beat and I think for the story to hit its groove as well.

The time jumps are really not a challenge imho, and often they are quite heavily set up.

As for the film's message, pop psychology used to say men think about sex every seven seconds. It's been debunked, but that kind of drive still exists. But Zendaya's character Tashi Duncan thinks about tennis every damn second.

That sort of fixation, a very singular drive, propels this film through good and bad, through sickness and injury and health. The camera and Zendaya do a tremendous job of making her beauty look strangely menacing at times.

I do think Tashi would scoff at doubles play on the court. In the sheets? Well, for her the court still bests any courting. Anyways the techno music, almost a fourth partner in this movie, is such a good fit. Rave dancing to me seems like a very much solo, self-revolving-self style. No voice/lyrics, just you inside your head.

Is this the zone for top flight sports competition, who knows? But it is what claims her character more than any other person. Likely important to include a daughter to help tame that one-track take, and her father is given minimal time to abolish the notion that her obsession was a parent trap.

It is who she is. And at risk of being all she is.

The two male leads capture some of the frenetic male adolescent energy, but after a while they falter in a fake hustle. At times I felt like the movie was flirting with an idea I often cannot shake, that all relationships are a battle of wills, and even in the same bed, we all end up sleeping alone.

But I think all relationships are eclipsed by the intense Singles play of a tennis player subsumed by her game. So intense she wants to ignite in others, no matter the consequences....and honestly maybe no matter the final score.

Watched this and (I think) all of the Peacock-related/sanctioned specials. Normally I prefer fiction over truth, but those documentaries connected even better than this for me.

That said this was about as enjoyable a slice of nostalgia as I could imagine. Maybe for you as well. I suspect those who feel a twinge of recognition on seeing the movie's poster will enjoy this the most.

There is a lot going on, and that is sort of the point. From the jump, the camera wants you to feel as overwhelmed as the hapless assistant, sans any illicit substance via Billy Preston. Characters crowd the frame, as sketches try to squeeze onto Lorne's board and Lorne tries to squeeze past the chairman of the board.

Lorne is pitched as sort of the midwife of the melee, while dominating screen time, somehow dodging too intense a spotlight. As suits him in reality apparently. Meanwhile Chevy is depicted as saving the commercial day and Belushi is the patron saint/spirit animal.

Chevy/Belushi are on opposite sides of the cutting edge of comedy, and somehow the show repeatedly dodges self-inflicted wounds to survive. The movie is a bit of a love-letter to those two twin forces, and too Lorne's collaborator/wife as well.

It was interesting to contrast this movie with the Peacock special on the writers. Sort of like comparing an upset stomach with a peptic ulcer.

Does a fine job of looking back down memory lane with rosey enough glasses. The Not Ready for Prime Time players from back back them might have blanched at this portrayal, but the Past Their Prime septuagenarians might blush and accept the gentle love they've garnered.