Booplicity

If I am to judge by Duplicity and The International, Clive Owen has embarked on a personal mission of trying to bore me to death. What did I ever do to you, dude? I loved Children of Men. I do not deserve this.

Guys, this movie, ugh. So little of interest happens in it. It tries to be Oceans Eleven but forgets to make the main characters interesting, which is I hear is sort of crucial. Julia Roberts reprises her character from Notting Hill, who is basically a dick, so I guess that's interesting if you're a cinema professor trying to think of movies to show in the undergrad class you've decided to title "'Tis Pity She's a Dick: Julia Roberts and the Early 21st Century Genderschnurze". God, you're kind of pretentious. Was it really necessary to make up a German-sounding word?

Oh man, I wish Clive Owen would've just done a shitty Hugh Grant impersonation through this whole movie. That would have been amazing.

Having given up on writing an interesting plot or characters, whoever made this piece of junk opts to throw in bongo drums, super-slow motion and split-screens every once in a while, but he doesn't fool us one bit. No he doesn't. Well, maybe a little. Bongo drums are pretty sweet.