Director: Mark Waters
Writer: Robin Bernheim
Stars: Brooke Shields, Miranda Cosgrove, Benjamin Bratt
Synopsis: Lana’s daughter Emma returns from London and announces that she’s getting married next month. Things become more complicated when Lana learns that the man who stole Emma’s heart is the son of the man who broke hers years ago.
Mother of the Bride is not precisely what you think it’s going to be. In fact, it’s so much worse. That’s because the film is like a copy of the classic romantic comedy genre. It’s like a copy—of a copy, of a copy—copied so many times that the film becomes so nakedly transparent that it’s lazy. This is purely recycled material, with dozens of tropes weakly stitched together that are like watching beautiful people scrape their nails across a chalkboard.
Every basic scene is cliche and always comes with a double dip of exposition. There is absolutely zero chemistry between the cast, including the leads, and a laughable attempt to pair Brooke Shields with a former WB/CW star. Any cute or comedic moments are forced, unnatural, and lazy. I would say this is the cinematic streaming equivalent of the Milgram experiment—testing the obedience of the audience, the cast, and mine.
The story starts with a young couple, Emma (Miranda Cosgrove) and RJ (Sean Teale), and the latter has just asked her to marry him. It’s a grand gesture, with an entire restaurant emptied and filled with thousands of roses. Emma says yes, and they hug. The first thing Emma does is talk about how she has to tell her mom about him. Yes, Emma has not told her mother that she is in a committed relationship. The scene is flat, and there is no celebration. Again, this is a disjointed attempt to move the story forward.
The script attempts to make the case that Emma and her mother, Lana (a stiff and lifeless Brooke Shields), are close. That is mainly because they formed a bond when Emma’s father and Lana’s husband were killed in a car accident when she was eight years old. However, from the start, I was surprised that this mother-daughter duo knew each other’s names. Lana has no idea that her daughter is in a relationship because she is so wrapped up in her work. The other issue is that Lana does not know what her daughter does for a living. Do they not have an unlimited phone plan or access to social media or WhatsApp? Do they lack the resources for postage, or is using carrier pigeons to deliver the mail illegal?
Of course, we soon find out this is all a way to create an awkward run-in of a romance that has been dormant for years. It turns out RJ’s father is Lana’s college boyfriend and her long-lost love, Will (Benjamin Bratt). At first, you are afraid that Will may be Emma’s father, but sadly, as the film goes on, you will wish the film took that turn to feel any emotion other than paint-by-numbers boredom. Yes, the rom-com playbook is pulled out, the dust is blown away, and the script follows the genre rules step-by-step.
Cosgrove is relegated to that role of annoying, anxious, and weak female stereotype who keeps asking inane questions after they have already been asked. For example, after it has been made clear that Will and Lana used to date, she asks Will, “How do you know my mom?” Teale has virtually nothing to do as if he was told to stand there and look like Oscar Isaac’s long-lost child. Likable comedic actors like Rachael Harris and MadTV’s Michael MacDonald are relegated to over-the-top sidekicks who spew out one-liners out of nowhere as if they were wooden dolls, where some inexplicably pulled the string.
However, I would like to commend whatever physical trainer (or VFX special effects) was used to carve out the beach bodies of 60-year-old Benjamin Bratt and 43-year-old Chad Michael Murray that made me think if stunt coordinators are under consideration for Oscars, then the Hollywood trainer surely should be as well. Now, excuse me while I work on my third love handle.
Mother of the Bride lacks the charm and stamina to be an effective crowd-pleaser. Vapid and tiresome, this Netflix streamer is strictly for diehard fans of the genre or anyone going through a bad breakup in the hopes of finding love again.
