Movie Gazette

It was a strange, perhaps slightly twisted sense of disappointment I felt after finally making it through the painful 112 minutes that make up ‘Gigli’. Having heard all of the anti-hype surrounding the film upon its big screen release, I watched it on DVD strongly expecting it to be the worst movie ever made. As it happens, it’s not. In fact, it’s not even the worst Jennifer Lopez movie ever made (surely The Wedding Planner must take that title).

Unfortunately, a flick’s always going to be in trouble when the only positive thing to be said about it is “it’s not the worst film ever made.” After all, had the infuriatingly slimy Matthew McConaughey been added to the concoction, it probably would be. Then again, who needs McConaughey when you’ve got Ben Affleck, all big hair and no talent. The strange brand of engrossment that comes from watching the man act is akin to the urge to slow down when driving past a car wreck – only the latter tends to be less gruesome.

It’s not just the acting that reeks in ‘Gigli’ (pronounced “Jee-lee”, in case you’re still wondering). The story, written by director Martin Brest, walks a constant tightrope between complete abomination and just plain rubbish. It brings us Affleck as a useless gangster and Lopez as the lesbian hitwoman hired to make sure he does his job properly (so why not just give her the job instead of paying two people?). Then there’s the job itself, which involves kidnapping, and then basically driving around with, a happy-go-lucky retard called Brian (Jason Bartha). To say it’s a little on the crass side would be like saying Affleck’s cranium is just a tad large.

And then there’s the infamous dialogue. There’s the now legendary “gobble gobble” line, where J-Lo, having succumbed to Affleck’s moronic lesbian-converting charms, lies in front of her permanently perplexed-looking co-star and informs him that it’s turkey time (which is of course incredibly apt, but not in the way she means it). There are plenty of other examples, one of which involves mooing, and another where Lopez drones endlessly on about the benefits of lady-on-lady action – but I wouldn’t like to spoil them for you.

Brest calls in a few favours to get cameo appearances from Christopher Walken and Al Pacino, but don’t let the presence of the big-hitters fool you – this is a terrible film. It’s incredibly poorly edited, is accompanied by a totally inappropriate soundtrack (which is suddenly switched on in the background even when nothing remotely emotional is happening), and is notable only for publicly marking the now-imploded Hollywood phenomenon that was “Bennifer”.”