Love Wrecked

While there’s certainly no faulting the appreciatively wacky premise, Love Wrecked quickly establishes itself as a low-rent comedic misfire that seems to have been geared exclusively towards teenage girls. The movie, which follows Amanda Bynes’ Jenny as she tricks her pop-star crush (Chris Carmack’s Jason Masters) into believing that they’re marooned on a deserted island (when they are, in fact, mere feet away from a posh Caribbean resort), has been infused with an almost egregiously bubbly sensibility by director Randal Kleiser, as the filmmaker’s consistent emphasis on woefully lighthearted elements (eg musical montages, cutesy scene-transitioning wipes, etc) effectively highlights the various deficiencies within the production. Stephen Langford’s simplistic screenplay has been jam-packed with pointless interludes that go absolutely nowhere, with the eye-rollingly hackneyed subplot revolving around Jenny’s smitten best friend (and his tireless efforts at winning her over) certainly standing tall above the film’s myriad of cookie-cutter attributes. The inclusion of several lowest-common-denominator instances of humor (eg Jenny’s aforementioned pal loses his watch while massaging a portly guest) only compounds the movie’s problems, and one certainly can’t help but lament Langford’s inability to properly capitalize on the inherently off-the-wall premise (an admittedly chuckle-worthy scene in which Jenny must distract Chris from a pair of windsurfers ultimately comes off as the exception rather than the rule). It’s a shame, really, as Bynes is undeniably a charismatic performer who surely deserves far better material – although there’s little doubt that she’s going to find herself on increasingly thin ice if she keeps cranking out nonstarters like this (as well as such underwhelming past efforts as She’s the Man and Sydney White).

*1/2 out of ****