The idea of a "revenge comedy" naturally appeals to my dark side, and I've always been a Matthew Broderick fan -- so what could keep me from getting out to this little film? Not much. Not the fact that the first act feels like it was put together while the writer was under anesthetic. Not the fact that the film's editing is better described as butchery. Not the fact that Broderick as a hick astronomer is a bit far-fetched. Not the fact that Kelly Preston is an unbelievable bore to watch.
No, none of this could keep me from laughing at the hysterics of Broderick and Meg Ryan trying to win back and irrevocably destroy their respective lovers. While Addicted to Love has more gaping plot holes than you can shake a stick at, it's still awfully funny when it wants to be, largely carried on the shoulders of Broderick's natural charm and a cast of thousands (of roaches). And Meg Ryan ain't bad, either.
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