Over the years, writers have toyed with the intriguing idea of an undelivered communication, in a myriad of ways.
In the case of "Letters to Juliete" - a letter gone astray and acted upon long after it was originally posted by the sender - falls short by a country mile.
Part of the problem is execution.
In this glorious picture-postcard tribute to the Italian countryside, the director and actors struggle to injest much-needed zest to the slick glossy project - but because the script is so poorly-written and ill-conceivded it can't help but fail.
In a nutshell, the plot goes something like this.
A young woman stumbles on a crumpled dog-eared letter behind a brick in a wall - and on the spur of the moment - is inspired to contact the individual mentioned in the hand-written scroll in a bold-faced effort to uncover a long-standing mystery.
In response, a young English man gets in touch with "Sophie" (Amanda Seyfried) - the sickly-sweet main character in this soppy romance genre flick - on behalf of his grandmother (played coyingly by respected English actress Vanessa Redgrave who is wasting her talents here) who was once in love with the author of the found letter.
The adventurous threesome strike out to locate Claire's long-lost love with the express hope of closing a door on the past and possibly opening a new one into the future.
Unfortunately, the journey is a big yawn - a road best not taken - in this overblown piece of pap that fails to strike a chord of truth from the get-go.
Part of the problem relates to realism.
Every character that trots across the screen in "Letters to Juliet" rings hollow.
The directing is pedestrian, painful, and unimaginative.
In essence, this film is not unlike a ceremonial barge, drifting aimlessly down the stream of life without a rudder.
When all the loose ends have finally been tied up and presented in a neat and tidy package, it becomes apparent that the studio's stab at formula filmmaking, missed the mark because of the lack of one vital element.
Originality!
Nonetheless, young women have been inclined to swarm local theatres - with boxes of tissue and and mouth-watering bonbons in and - to slurp up every soapy melodramatic moment.
Go figure!
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