My good friend and cynical bastard mentor John Dempsey offered
two phrases to describe this film: "Relationship Propaganda"
and "A two hour Hallmark card". He's referring to the
terrible tameness that plagues this and so many other mainstream
Hollywood screenplays. This movie can't decide whether it wants
to be a comedy or a lovey-dovey feel good drama, and as a result,
it fails miserably at both.
The sad part is, I didn't buy into, or like, a single character or storyline in the entire film. The supposed aliens look and behave more like art gallery curators, and I sure as heck don't care whether they manage to save their civilization or not. Annette Benning is fine, but her character, while pathetic, is not particularly likable or convincing. No one is.
As far as the comedy goes, the pickings are pretty slim. There's supposed to be this whole premise of the alien being ill-prepared for courting a mate... but then he proceeds to almost bed two belles and marry a third almost immediately after he arrives. Not so tough after all, I guess (perhaps Jeff, the world's worst pick-up artist is jealous).
There's this gag where the alien dude's techno penis buzzes loudly every time he's aroused. It's not particularly hilarious the first time they hit you with it, and it becomes much more not particularly hilarious after 30 times. (They can teleport through four solar systems but they can't build a penis that doesn't rattle? Okay, whatever.)
Gary Shandling (the alien) had kind of a funny quizzical look about him. But the occasional kind of funny quizzical glance does not a great movie make.
I receive no pleasure in torpedoing someone else's project. But then, I also receive no pleasure when they promise me "HILARIOUS!" and deliver "mediocre". Et tu, Gary Shandling? Here's hoping his next venture doesn't fizzle the way this one does.