Main cast: Matthew McConaughey (Connor Mead), Jennifer Garner (Jenny Perotti), Emma Stone (Allison Vandermeersh), Breckin Meyer (Paul), Lacey Chabert (Sandra), Robert Forster (Sergeant Volkom), Anne Archer (Vonda Volkom), and Michael Douglas (Uncle Wayne)
Director: Mark Waters
Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, like every romantic comedy that features Matthew McConaughey, drives home the fact that women can be really stupid when it comes to men. Now, I’m sure we can all agree that some women can really be incredibly dense when it comes to men, but I don’t think I watch a romantic comedy to be reminded of this depressing fact.
As you can probably guess from the title, this one is a take on Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, only this time Connor Mead, a smarmy womanizer portrayed by Mr McConaughey like a transparently insincere used car salesman, is the one having to be reminded by ghosts of his girlfriends past that his life of endless womanizing will be his downfall. His true love is the woman he ditched, Jenny Perotti, so can he recover his senses in… oh, two days… and win her back? That is, if he hasn’t already destroyed the wedding the two of them are attending.
Jennifer Garner tries to play her role properly, pouting at all the right moments and artfully tearing up when the sentimental music track plays in the background, but she may as well not bother. Connor Mead is such a boorish and disgusting unlikable turd here, oozing smarm from his ridiculous clothes to his hairstyle. Perhaps the distasteful clothing and hair are intentional, but even when he’s supposed to be a reformed man, Mr McConaughey’s facial expression and body movements still mark his character as a disgusting turd of a man. It’s quite depressing how Jenny has some nice guys to choose from, but in the end she has to pick this walking yeast infection of a turd ball.
No amount of sickening sentimental music or flatly delivered expressions of love can hide the fact that there are only about two likable characters in the whole movie. Connor is a turd who looks like he bathes in grease, the wedding guests are morons or shrews, and the “comedy” arises from following these idiots as they wreck havoc on the big screen. To add to the insult, this movie reinforces the insulting fantasy that male jerks are secretly vulnerable gentlemen who actually love you – all you need is to endure and wait until he comes to his senses. Please, just spare me the rubbish and exorcise this cringe-inducing movie out of existence.