A few weeks ago, I posted a little something on "Valentine's Day," which inspired a wrath of negative comments on Facebook to Garry Marshall's terrible ode to a holiday created by a greeting card company. My future brother-in-law, The Big Ragu, said it was a dumber version of "Love, Actually." The fiancee said there were too many characters, including many who couldn't act.
(The latter development is both joyous and terrifying. The fiancee is as sweet as strawberry pie and the venom she unleashed on Taylor Swift was merciless--and wondrous to behold. But this relationship already has too much cynicism. I'm a slice of burnt toast from becoming a grumpy old man. Her kindness makes me palatable to the world.)
Both are right, but the more I think about it, I also hated how "Valentine's Day" included every possible demographic and nationality. It's an insulting approach at giving a movie universal appeal. Hey, the script is awful, but if we can get Jamie Foxx and Queen Latifah, we can rope in 10,000 more African-Americans on the opening weekend!
But I think Marshall and his writers didn't capture everyone. It would have been nice if they had given screen time to the following:
--Zombies (unforgivable, actually)
--Infants who can communicate with each other
--Pets dressed like people
--People dressed like pets
--Al Qaeda operatives (if the American military is represented...C'mon, Gar)
--The terminally ill
--High school students that don't have access to personal trainers