The Perfect Man

“If you’re the type that winces at the all-too-perfect models littered throughout magazines or has to reach for the sick bag whilst watching the latest Sandra Bullock in-flight, best to stay clear of this so-cute-you’ll-be-spotting-carrots-in-your-chunder effort” – Clint Morris


The Perfect Man

Hilary Duff, Heather Locklear, Chris Noth, Aria Wallace, Mike O’Malley, Caroline Rhea, Carson Kressley

If you’re the type that winces at the all-too-perfect models littered throughout magazines or has to reach for the sick bag whilst watching the latest Sandra Bullock in-flight, best to stay clear of the so-cute-you’ll-be-spotting-carrots-in-your-chunder effort, “The Perfect Man”.

Heather Locklear’s desperate and dateless. Mr Big’s without a woman. Hilary Duff can only attract the school introvert. Um, Yeah right…. and next year’s Academy Awards belongs to Mike Myers.

If TV veteran Locklear’s name above a cinema marquee isn’t enough to put you off, then the précis may well be: Jean Hamilton (Locklear) and her two daughters, Holly (Duff) and 7-year-old, Zoe (Aria Wallace), have just moved to yet another town following yet another of mum’s busted romances. It’s there though that Holly meets Ben (Noth), the uncle of a new friend. He knows everything there is to know about romance, and before mum can even unpack her toiletries, Holly and pal are scheming to bring the two olds together – via the ever so Machiavellian device known as The Internet.

As good as Locklear, Noth, even Duff, can be – Locklear’s always at home as a small screen bee-yatch, Noth was in his element as the enigmatic slut on Sex and the City, and Duff has a beaming smile that would melt a thousand Wonka bars – they all play about as authentically as Fairley Arrow in a kidnap case, here. Heck, the spurious Arrow case rings truer than this too-perfect-to-be-real set-up.

Locklear’s too good looking to be devoid of any after-dark shenanigans in her life, Duff’s too pretty to keep playing the quiet student who can only make friends with the local recluse, and Mr Big as an all-round nice guy that’s written the book on romance but sleeps with nothing but a hot-water bottle every night? I can swallow an over-sized antibiotic easier than that.

In fairness, those that are going to be spending their well-earned pocket money seeing the money want nothing but this. For all intents and purposes, they’ll be satisfied enough too – especially if it’s merely the appeal of Mrs Duff that’s pulling them to the multiplex.

Typical of Mrs Duff’s film efforts, it’s got the cute boys, cute gals, cute pop music, cute one-liners, schmaltzy virgin apposite mush, and the forced but fuzzy finale. Frankly though, I think Duff’s last effort, Raise Your Voice, might have had more oomph in it than this intermittently dreary number. It might be time to stray from the ‘same old, same old’ Hilary and try something a little more enterprising or a little meatier? Maybe that can be your excuse for calling long-time adversary Lindsay Lohan, whose seemingly doing just that?

Rating :
Reviewer : Clint Morris