The Switch
Completely ridiculous but enjoyable: the best kind of Romcom
Review
There comes, quite frequently, a time in very girl's life when what she really needs is a trashy, content-lite romcom. We even know some boys who'll partake in an hour or two of weepy mush, not that they'd admit to it. We never expect them to be good. So when they are it's a delight for streaming eyes.
Of all the members of the romcom crew, we expect particularly little from Jennifer Aniston. This is partly because she will always be Rachel in our eyes. It's partly because she got dumped for Angelina Jolie (none of us would have coped either) and it's partly because her previous efforts have been dire. The Switch is by no means an oscar-winning performance from The One With The Hair, but we enjoyed it all the same.
It tells the (undoubtedly ropey) story of Kassie (Jen) and her decision to have a child through artificial insemination. Because she's doing it in America where everything is ridiculous, she throws a pregnancy party, during which the ”hunk“ she's paid to donate his, well, ”junk“ does just that. Her friend Wally (Jason Bateman), deemed by Kassie as unfit for fatherhood thanks to having most of the character traits of Woody Allen, gets rat-arsed and swaps his own product for the hunk's. Hilarity ensues.
That part was all a bit rubbish though. The film really picks up with the entrance (”seven years later“) of Sebastian, Kassie's morose, neurotic son. The kid is hilarious, and he and Wally make a fantastic double act. When Sebastian's not in a scene, Jeff Goldblum generally is, meaning that the remainder of the screen time is filled with a minimum of one great comedian. And at least one distraction from Jennifer Aniston's botox.
Naturally, we did get a bit soppy in the emotional bits, especially those involving Sebastian and his puppy dog eyes; he could give Shrek's Puss in Boots a run for his money. But mostly we giggled, and enjoyed a new take on the journey to a happy ending, even if it does get filed under ”only in America“.
