Despite an almost complete lack of hotly anticipated (at least on our part) potty humour, this movie still managed to exceed our expectations of how bad it would actually be. I mean, just look at that cover. We were asking for it.
Yes, Paris Hilton was the selling point here, but we also thought there would be a healthy dose of fart jokes to go with her usual blank-faced, pouty gaze and dead-eyed delivery. Boy, were we disappointed. Even an early yoga scene starring the aforementioned hottie, her fugly BFF nottie, and the douchebag stalker protagonist seemed ripe for a good rip, what with the awkward stretching and raised buttocks. Alas, not one wind was broken.
Paris almost pulled one over on us at the end, at which point we all applauded, but it turned out she was just hiding a whoopee cushion under her wedding dress. For shame, Paris. For shame.
We also expected a good make-over montage. From the very beginning, it’s clear that nottie June, covered in prosthetic moles, stretch marks, unibrows, and bed sores, would emerge semi-beautiful. We expected June to undergo a five-minute trial of mani-pedis, waxings, and minor reconstructive surgery, to the tune of “Girls Just Want To Have Fun.”
Instead, what we get is an uninteresting, barely addressed makeover by a Scandinavian dentist hunk, Joanne (Yo-hawn). He wants a girl who is “grateful” to have sex with him, which is why he turns June into a hottie and begins dating her. You see, ugly girls are grateful.
Yeah, the guys in this movie are assholes. It’s like My Fair Lady, only the polite British men are replaced with stalker frat boys and creepy blond gym bunnies. You could tell the movie really wanted us to root for June to end up with the leading man – you know, the guy who jumps Paris and pays a random dude to have sex with June. Sure enough, that’s what happens, rendering a final, resounding response from us viewers: