Collegiate Times

'He's Just Not That Into You' fails to get deep about dating and relationships.

There is a sadistic genius behind the makers of "He's Just Not That into You." These guys have actually disguised two hours of interwoven stories about unbearably brainless women as a chick flick. It's like feeding bacon to a pig, no connection intended. With an incredible talent-saturated ensemble cast, director Ken Kwapis (current president of the He-Man Woman Haters Club, I'm sure) has created the modern day misogynist's manifesto.

Set in an unrealistically crack-pipe lacking Baltimore, "He's Just Not" opens with the blind date of Gigi (the infectiously adorable Ginnifer Goodwin) and Conor (Kevin Connolly, the guy from Entourage), a decent affair set up by a friend, that manages to make it to a second round of drinks. After they say their goodbyes to one another, they each whip out a cell phone. Conor calls Anna (Scarlett Johansson), the girl he wishes he actually went out with; and Gigi calls Janine (Jennifer Connelly), who must listen to Gigi's optimistic interpretation of a lovely evening.

From there we learn that relationships are a mess of never getting what one wants. Gigi obsesses and yearns for a call from Conor, as we can assume she does after all first dates, who forgets her immediately. Apparently this is the current state of dating in America, a supermarket where men need only be mediocre or worse to melt the hearts of five-year-olds disguised as successful twenty-something women. Women are represented by the desperate Gigi, the aforementioned, the knows-how-to-get-what-she-wants-slut Anna, the nagging Janine, the commitment-seeking Beth (Jennifer Aniston) and sad-sack Mary (Drew Barrymore). When their powers combine, they become every barbecue-swapped female stereotype or awkward punch line. It's fairly obvious why these girls can't land their men. Their idea of a relationship comes from '50s pearl-wearing marital obligation rather than fulfillment or compatibility. To them, an old maid's death is the worst death of all.

 They -- Gigi in particular -- will allow men all sorts of behavioral credit, all in the name of a second date. It's like a dramatization of Rock of Love, where the proverbial man steps in for Bret Michaels and the silicone encrusted floosies have been replaced by some of the most beautiful and fatally needy women on the planet.

It's a crime the talent Kwapis wastes on these dregs of female characters. I'm afraid to admit that all the performances were fairly commendable, especially the scene-stealing Goodwin, who fully explored over-simplified feminine desire with a delicate tip-toe between endearing and annoying.

 The Oscar-caliber skills of Connelly and Johansson are spent on roles Tara Reid could cover quite adequately, something fairly equated to Van Gogh illustrating a Family Circus comic. The film never once encourages the viewer to wonder why relationships are difficult as the main distraction is whether women are actually this stupid.

While the characters are paper thin, Kwapis and company's one slightly saving grace is its transitional Baltimorean setting.

The gutted and remodeled tenements reflect a generation of gentrification, a generation moving farther and farther away from its parents. Janine and Ben are ripping out the nostalgic wooden interior of their recently purchased building and replacing it with sleek stainless steel and cool frosted glass. These apartments are closer to Kubrick's "2001" than a cozy Rockwell painting. A carefully penned love letter has been replaced by a witty text message, ushering in the era of the digital relationship, where men and women can remain coy at a virtual distance.

Marriage is somewhat fading as a social requirement, a fact the film maturely alludes to, but regresses in its characters' treatment of the sacred union as a grown-up checkpoint.

 "He's Just Not" has assembled a star for practically any taste but has bound them in smartly-dressed stupidity, restricting their existence to the one-dimensional page.

The film pretends to be an encouraging plea for women to believe that happiness can be found in places other than mistreating men, but instead manages to throw the feminine mentality into the dark ages. Any couple that sees "He's Just Not" as a heart-warming comedy probably gets around by rickshaw with the man at the helm and the woman on the yoke.