The opening credits weren’t quite finished but I already felt offended and degraded as a woman. Is that a record?
Netflix has bought all these (I’m assuming) made-for-TV monstrosities and I keep wondering who the hell they’re meant for, but now I know. Epiphany! The women who watch Hallmark movies are the same women who vote for Trump. In fact, Hallmark may even be complicit in brainwashing these women into buying into the patriarchy, and by extension Trump, even though it goes against their own interests!
Hallmark teaches us that a woman’s greatest achievement is landing (and keeping!) a husband, even if he’s a workaholic and a bully. It doesn’t matter as long as he can support a family; a woman’s second greatest achievement is pushing lookalikes out her vagina and immediately indoctrinating them in her ignorant, meatloaf-eating ways. Hallmark essentials: a courtship that looks a lot like hateship, because the couple is incompatible; a baking montage (a woman’s place is in the kitchen, flour on nose not optional!); a stark-white cast at all times. And if you end on the big, floofy wedding, there’s no responsibility to show the inevitable divorce in roughly 7 months time.
In this particular movie, and yes, it’s hard to tell them apart: Libby is a wedding planner hoping (urgently needing) to drum up business at a bridal convention. Ben is a financial planner and author; he’s just written a book encouraging affianced couples to dump the big event and think small. This is very bad for business – Libby’s included, but Ben makes enemies out of all the vendors at the wedding event.
Anyway, Ben is so gorgeous (this is Libby’s assessment, not mine) that she keeps pushing down those pesky feelings about being undermined and disrespected in order to be swept off her feet by the sheer romance of…hot dogs? But then she’s continuously brought back to Earth with reminders of things like bills, eviction, and penury. Will these two crazy kids ever compromise?
Nope! But they get married anyway. On a boat. The end.