Ghosts of Girlfriends Past

Ghosts of Girlfriends Past - Dir. Mark Waters (2009)

Please understand I only saw this damn movie because I promised to take my sister to see it. I did not go to this fucking film of my own volition.

Matthew McConaughey showed promise once. He had a memorable turn as stoner David Wooderson in Richard Linklater’s Dazed and Confused. He had another strong performance as a small town sheriff in John Sayles’ Lone Star. Since then, McConaughey has been content to coast on his good looks, insufferable smirk, and Southwestern drawl through one god-awful picture after another. His most recent efforts include the festering turds that were Fool’s Gold and Surfer, Dude. At least he seemed to have some fun with his image in Tropic Thunder as Ben Stiller’s agent, a role originally meant for Owen Wilson.

McConaughey headlines yet another romantic comedy, playing up the cocky man-whore character that studios seem to believe audiences will flock to. This time around he stars as Connor Mead, a superstar photographer, in this modern day take on Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. In the film’s opening moments, we immediately learn the depths of Mead’s douchebaggery. He strips a girl’s clothes off then has an archer shoot an apple off her head with a bow & arrow for a magazine cover, all without her consent. Mead STILL manages to worm his way into her panties even while he’s dumping three other girlfriends during a webcam conference call.

He returns home for his younger brother Paul’s (Breckin Meyer) wedding and is reunited with childhood friend Jenny Perotti (Jennifer Garner). There’s plenty of sexual tension between the two and an obvious flame carried by both, though neither would admit to it. After a few drinks, Mead spews some rhetoric condemning the concept of love and the institution of marriage. While taking a leak, he’s visited by the ghost of his late Uncle Walt, a loathsome lothario, played wonderfully by Michael Douglas as a cross between Hugh Hefner and Robert Evans. Uncle Walt is the Jacob Marley of the picture and warns Mead that he’ll be visited by three ghosts in order to save him from his loveless life of one-night stands. During one ghostly visit, we get a glimpse of the Walt Chamberlain level of boning Mead has devoted his life to as he sees every single woman he ever slept with. Taking into account the law of averages, it's a miracle he hasn't caught herpes, genital warts or even a bad case of the crabs.

Of course, Mead’s playboy image is a mask to hide his insecurities and fear of being hurt. We get the obligatory fight between the leads even though they’ll wind up in the end. It’s all so formulaic that I wonder if there were actual screenwriters typing this out or if they didn’t just cut and paste it from a bunch of other scripts. Looking at their credits on IMDB, writers Jon Lucas & Scott Moore were also involved in the stinkfest known as Four Christmases. So we have another cinematic abortion to blame them for.

Girlfriends Past isn’t a total loss. Jennifer Garner does her best even if her character is bogged down by uninventive and unconvincing displays of wit. Miss Garner does deserve better than to be trapped in the hell that is the female lead in every romantic comedy (AKA Meg Ryan). The film is saved by Douglas and another pair of funny supporting performances. The first from Emma Stone as the nerdy ghost of girlfriends past and the second by Robert Forster as a retired military man and father of the bride.

Rating: * 1/2