Review

Review Date: 1-November-09
Spoiler Rating: Low
Juju Judgment: Junk

New York, I Love You (2009)

I walked into this movie behind two guys who requested tickets to "I Love New York." Their confusion was understandable since, slogans aside, loving New York is especially common in the wake of 9/11. I wonder now if they were disappointed. Like its older sibling Paris, Je T'aime, New York, I Love You offers a slight impression of the city that is nominally its muse. And unlike some of the episodes along the Seine that made up the previous film, this collection of American vignettes has almost nothing to recommend it.

A viewer might extract two ideas from this jumble: one, that most New Yorkers are attractive smokers (which is an oxymoron), and two, that New York is a multicultural place. (The poster claims that "every moment … love begins" but the film does not confirm such hooey.) Multiculturalism is well and good, yet it starts the movie off on the wrong foot. The first few chapters are so heavily flavored with European music that my first thought was "Do these filmmakers want to rehash the Paris flick so badly? Isn't that insulting to New York?" It does not help that the opener with Hayden Christensen and Andy Garcia is devoid of charm. My hopes rose when I saw the wonderful Irrfan Khan bantering with Natalie Portman, but their interlude, directed by Mira Nair, quickly goes south. At least the music diversifies after that.

New York, I Love You is dedicated to the worthy Anthony Minghella, who, it must be said, wrote one of the more notable stinkers in the lot. Directed by Shekhar Kapur (Elizabeth), his piece hinges on an old hotel, Julie Christie's enduring beauty, and Shia LaBeouf's eyes, an intriguing combination that fails to produce any magic. Portman later returns to direct a story about a put-upon father. Though ineffective, it surpasses the scenes of Orlando Bloom talking on the phone and a tacky tale wherein cute Anton Yelchin loses his virginity to Olivia Thirlby. Leave it to Brett Ratner of Rush Hour fame to helm that one.

When all is said and done there are only two segments that do not exactly suck. I had to chuckle watching Ethan Hawke hit on a gorgeous stranger (Maggie Q) only to have her turn the tables on him. Meanwhile, on another sidewalk in town, Robin Wright Penn seems to hit on Chris Cooper before writer/director Yvan Attal turns the tables on the audience. I will also admit to appreciating nonagenarian Eli Wallach appearing as a man who has been married forever (some moments … love continues). But his old face and the pretty young ones provide little reason to love New York.

Copyright © 2009 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.