After a long day at the office, nothing helps me unwind as well as the prospect of an evening on the couch with either a book or a DVD. Tonight I opted for mindless entertainment in the company of Hugh Dancy and Isla Fisher. I’ll admit it: I was looking for an escape – a trip down perfection road complete with prince charming at the other end. How things ended so badly is beyond me.

A little perspective. Yes, I’ve read Sophie Kinsella’s novels and no, I didn’t take anything from them beyond a few hours of entertainment. If you’re looking for a message about controlling your spending and how debt can ruin your life you’re climbing up the wrong tree – you may want to book those tickets to Dr. Phil though I doubt he’ll be any more helpful. Kinsella created a tragically comedic character which we shake our heads at because we’ll never be as bad off as she is (or so we hope). I guess if you really stretched it, you could dig a message out of the stories but frankly, they’re not worth the bother. I had hoped the same to be true of the movie adaption but somewhere in the middle of Confessions of a Shopaholic‘s 100 minute run time, I went from complacency to anger. Why is it always the apparently harmless stuff that presses my buttons?

I’m not even sure where to start with this disaster. This isn’t even a movie – it’s an attack on the senses. Too bright, too loud, Isla Fisher (in the lead role as Rebecca Bloomwood) is annoying as hell and whoever thought it was a great idea to cast Joan Cusack and John Goodman as Becky’s parents must have had too many cocktails the day before casting. Kristin Scott Thomas? What are you doing in this movie? And let’s not even get started on Hugh Dancy who is given so very little to work with that he comes across as more of a ass than a sweeping heartthrob. Sure he looks the part but there’s no spark, no chemistry, no charm. How the production managed to kill even Dancy’s natural charm is baffling.

And that’s just the surface. Let’s look a little at what we’re dealing with here. Becky has a problem: she’s a shopaholic. In one scene, ironically this takes place at a Shopaholics Anonynous Meeting (I’m sure they figured this was genius at work – can you picture the script meeting?), she fetishizes shopping as if it were her best lover (complete with climactic moaning). And then there’s the moment when she buys back her designer dress (which costs her three times as much) rather than the maid of honour dress for her best friend’s wedding; and not just her best friend but apparently her only friend. And yet life goes on. The lies continue to build, getting bigger until, OMG!, it all explodes in her face. In public. Everyone knows and she can’t hide it. It’s at this point that I start to hyperventilate. They actually managed to get a message in there? One that has real repercussions? If this movie doesn’t end well I’m throwing a party and inviting the entire block to celebrate. But of course that’s too much to ask. It has to end well otherwise what type of feel good movie would that be? This thing doesn’t know what it wants at once encouraging the audience to indulge and enjoy Becky’s spending (and perhaps our own) and in the next admonishing us for doing so. It’s as confused as I was but not nearly as angry.

I didn’t expect to think and if the movie had been blander, I probably wouldn’t have given this a second thought but the fact that it so outlandishly says that it’s OK to go into debt because there’s always a solution (one that isn’t particularly difficult or cost you much heartache) just pushed one too many buttons. Heck, at one point Mr. Bloomwood tells his daughter that if the US economy can survive when it’s billions in the hole, she should be able to survive too. Honestly? This is good advice? Really? Think it would be too much to ask the video store to refund the rental cost? Even that isn’t as easy as the solution to all of Becky’s problems.

I’m done. P.J. Hogan, I’d like to thank you for once and for all proving that I shouldn’t trust you even for my mindless entertainment. And Mr. Dancy, I hope you find yourself a better agent. Any more roles like this and I may need to re-think my crush.