![]() ![]() Lovestruck accountant Trevor (Dylan Sprouse, the film’s sole bright spot) is duly dazzled.īut she is pining for Hardin, and when his mother (Louise Lombard) comes to visit, Tessa agrees a little too quickly to pretend they’re still together for the sake of this woman she’s never met. Within 24 hours, Tessa has discovered the firm’s next bestseller, been whisked off for a wild night with an investor and been bought a gaudy cocktail dress on the company dime, in which she can totter down a staircase to dazzle her co-workers. Psych! The happy end was all in Hardin’s mind actually he is drunk-sleeping in his car, and she is having her extremely realistic first day as a publishing house intern. Potato Head - a perfect plastic blank accessorized with stuck-on leather jacket, tattoos and whisky bottle - with Tessa similarly featureless beneath waved hair, dewy complexion and oddly frumpy costuming.Īs doubtless you recall, “After” ended with their tentative reunion, after Hardin’s Terrible Betrayal (he initially pursued Tessa as a dare) had been discovered by his recently deflowered paramour. Josephine Langford returns as Tessa, while the role of troubled hunk Hardin Scott is reprised by Hero Fiennes Tiffin, who is an actor and not some beloved tinned British brandycake used as a poultice for shrapnel wounds in times of war. ![]() And with most of the nasty delivered by and at women, it really does teach the exact wrong lessons about sexual rivalry, slut-shaming and how you don’t really love a guy unless you’ve messed up some catty b-’s ombre hair extensions over him. Exchanges like “Haven’t you got some carpet to munch on?” “Haven’t you got some d- to suck?” feel about as organic to the film’s ecosystem as an old condom in a glass of milk. Apparently believing the sole problem with the first film was its PG-13 squeakiness (that was merely one of its problems), here the writers pepper the screenplay with f-bombs and gratuitous sexual encounters made somehow more clumsy by director Roger Kumble’s anodyne Gap commercial aesthetic. The primary culprit is Anna Todd, author of the novels, who steps in as co-screenwriter with Mario Celaya.
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