Every week we round up selections from the funniest, most obscene and brutal film criticism out there so that you don’t waste your cash at the theaters and laugh a little at Hollywood’s expense. This week: I Know Who Killed Me isn’t going to murder Lindsay Lohan’s career (if she can’t, no one can) but it comes close. But since critics weren’t even allowed to see the movie, we’re going to discuss No Reservations, the bland Catherine Zeta-Jones romantic comedy about a New York City chef who discovers the ingredient her life is missing — love.
“Among the movie’s chief flaws is that Zeta-Jones is entirely unconvincing as a chef, an American and a human being. Whether she’s storming out of the kitchen to attack customers who send back her food, regaling her exposition-enabling but otherwise pointless therapist (Bob Balaban) with disquisitions on food preparation and elaborately prepared meals, or serving her young niece a nice dinner of roasted fish with the head still attached, she seems awkward, Welsh and robotic.” — The Los Angeles Times
“There’s already a crazy behind-the-scenes restaurant movie out this summer, and it’s got a better story, and it’s a cartoon, and it stars a rat.” — The Washington Post
“The kitchen stink . . . Neither totally inedible nor especially appetizing, it’s the sort of flick you’d rent or watch on cable but never actually pay to see in a theater — unless your air conditioning was on the fritz.” — The New York Post
“The film feels miscast. Neither Zeta-Jones nor Eckhart look the least bit comfortable in a restaurant kitchen. More troubling, they look downright uncomfortable with each other. Sparks not only don’t fly, their pairing is like kung pao sauce with pasta.” — The Hollywood Reporter
“[The] silly, mushy script has [Zeta-Jones'] character swerve without warning between obtuse rigidity and sweet normality — to make her character believable would have been all but impossible.” — The Chicago Reader