40 Days and 40 Nights

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS

Rating: D

Even worse than you expected.

I almost didn't review this movie, because reviewing it is tantamount to admitting I was actually stupid enough to go and see it. I hasten to add it was not of my own free will. And at least I didn't have to pay my way.

As bad as I expected this film to be, I'm forced to concede it's actually considerably worse than I imagined. The plot, be you generous enough to call it that, involves Josh Hartnett vowing to abstain from all things sexual for the 40 days of Lent. No intercourse with women, no heavy petting, and no masturbation. The fact the majority of the scenes revolve around the third item should tell you something about the level of mentality of the film. Expect to see scene after scene of Hartnett's brain-dead co-workers placing bets on when he'll break his vow. Expect to see Hartnett's roommate carefully inspecting his bedsheets for signs Hartnett has been "spanking the monkey." Expect to see Hartnett grabbing a handful of tissues and a skin magazine and hurrying to the restroom. Or buy a ticket for Ice Age instead, and spare yourself the entire ordeal.

This film is an example of a rare but curious phenomenon not observed in the wild since the movie Mixed Nuts. Every time you think to yourself, "Okay, this movie has finally struck bottom. It can't possibly get any worse," it astounds you by turning around and somehow sinking even further. It's hard not to feel a little admiration for the screenwriters. After all, it must take some kind of talent to churn out something this unrelentingly awful.

Speaking of the writers, they don't even try to make the film believable. The impetus for Hartnett's abstention is supposedly his breakup with a longtime girlfriend. Never mind this alone defies all logic, it gets worse. Seems every time Hartnett tries to have sex following the breakup, he has hallucinations of cracks forming in his bedroom ceiling. Somehow, if I were to stoop to writing a film like this, I think I could come up with something more inventive and humorous than cracks in the ceiling. But remember, we're dealing with hacks here, who apparently figure it's not worth expending any effort on an audience foolish enough to come to this movie in the first place.

When Hartnett meets Shannyn Sossamon in a laundromat, it's an example of the film sinking to new depths. Don't tell me they're going to try to turn a movie obsessed with masturbation into a sappy love story. Okay, I won't. But they do. Every time Sossamon subsequently has a fight with Hartnett, her indignation over the situation makes no sense. She learns of his vow of temporary abstinence, and gets pissed off. Why, exactly? She practically throws herself at him in the laundromat, he resists but finally relents, then she feels betrayed because he's not out to get her in the sack? Then later, in a really stupid scene (no, I mean even stupider than the last one), his ex-girlfriend rapes him while he's handcuffed to a bed, and Sossamon shows up just as the festivities are ending. Of course, she gets pissed off again, but I assume this time it's at her agent for getting her into this whole mess.

Didn't Josh Hartnett have a movie career at one time? Seriously, remember how high Patrick Swayze was riding after Dirty Dancing, and then suddenly his next film was... Road House? I'm getting the same sense here. If your career was taking off, and you were being offered a number of roles in major features, why would you commit six months of your life to a movie destined for "USA: Up All Night" at the expense of other more promising opportunities? I dunno, maybe he thought this was Oscar® material.