In Made of Honor, Patrick Dempsey plays a conveniently rich and willfully single serial "fornicator" who slowly but surely is domesticated by his unspoken love for longtime BFF Hannah (Michelle Monaghan), who's on her way to Scotland to marry Mr. Right Now since Mr. Right's too chickenshit to say boo before her "I do." Which, come to think of it, not only sums up this movie, but more or less half the films in which Dempsey starred between 1987 and 2003.
There's also obvious My Best Friend's Wedding parallels. But the filmmakers and McDreamy have been so upfront about their movie's resemblance to that 1997 threesome that to acknowledge the similarities would be playing right into their grubby paws.
There's not an original thought in this movie's empty brain. The story line — which also borrows liberally from every episode of every sitcom in which men and women sit around and grouse ever-so-wittily about the opposite sex — doesn't amuse, amaze, or attempt to be anything other than a pleasant, forgettable diversion.
The torture begins in 1998 at Cornell, where Dempsey and Monaghan are in the same class. Dempsey — wearing a Bill Clinton mask — climbs into bed with Monaghan, thinking she's the "Monica" whose dress he's scheduled to stain that evening. Only, not so much: She's the roomie and doesn't take kindly to being assaulted in the middle of the night by a well-known Big Misogynist on Campus. She chews him out good, then — cut to present-day New York City, where they're now the best of friends, with no further explanation given or, apparently, necessary.
Director Paul Weiland and the three (!) screenwriters it took to boil down thousands of bad movies to 101 minutes do, at least, attempt to offer an explanation for why Tom's unable to commit: Turns out he has . . . ta-da! . . . Daddy issues. They're courtesy of a father (played by Sidney Pollack, who brings more grace and gravitas to the film than it deserves) who can't remember if he's on his sixth or seventh marriage.
And then and then and then: Weiland and his trio take us to all the expected places with all the familiar archetypes doing all the inevitable things people are supposed to do in movies featuring characters in a hurry to bust up their beloved's wedding to someone else. It never attempts, not once, to do anything other than push all the same buttons on the audience ATM.
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