Movie Review: When in Rome

When in Rome is an absolute travesty of a movie and so painful and upsetting that a night of reveling in latex and sadomasochistic groin clobbering would be a preferred alternative to the sheer misery of this so-called romantic comedy starring Kristen Bell (Couples Retreat) and Josh Duhamel (Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen). 29 days into 2010, it is now cemented as the worst movie of the year thus far and easily the crappiest thing to come to multiplexes since I Love You, Beth Cooper.

I know, right? This is supposed to be a cute little romantic piece of celluloid sugar, loosely based on the 1954 movie Three Coins in the Fountain, but instead it turns out to be a poop flavored stick of stale gum the director, Mark Steven Johnson (Ghost Rider), and screenwriting tandem (who wrote Old Dogs, by the way) of David Diamond and David Weissman, gleefully force feed the audience. Frankly, I probably would have been more forgiving if literally every single scene of When in Rome didn’t feel cheap, uneventful, dog-eared and pointless. I am pretty forgiving when it comes to romantic comedies (see my review of Leap Year), so that I hated this speaks volumes.

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