‘License to Wed’

Even Robin Williams can’t save this meet-cute, getting-to-know-each-other cute, moving-in-together cute.

By: Elise Nakhnikian

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Robin Williams’ Reverend Frank (left) lays down the law for Sadie (Mandy Moore) and Ben (John Krasinski) in License to Wed.


   I felt a little sick, toward the end of License to Wed, when the camera swirled around Sadie (Mandy Moore) and Ben (John Krasinski) as they made their pledge of eternal love (natch) after the bitter breakup (of course) and before the wedding (what else?). I think it was just the twirly camera making me queasy, but the hackneyed plot, tired schtick and sad misuse of the likeable Krasinski didn’t help. This is one of those Similac movies: not just formula but baby formula.
   Krasinski’s slightly goofy, Mr. Potato-head face and patiently aggrieved manner make Ben seem like an actual human being, but he’s adrift in a sea of wacky stereotypes. We’re supposed to believe that Sadie is the love of Ben’s life, but it’s hard to see what that sweetly sardonic young man could find to adore in this passive-aggressively perky Miss Congeniality.
   At first, you think the superficiality of their relationship is just part of the setup. In a series of generic-feeling vignettes, a montage shows them meeting cute, getting-to-know-each-other cute, and moving-in-together cute. But when their relationship never progresses, you realize that the joke’s on you, for springing for a ticket to this dead mackerel in hopes that it would show at least some signs of life.
   The main thing distinguishing License to Wed from other boy meets girl/boy loses girl/boy wins girl movies is the character who causes the rift — and the reunion. As Reverend Frank, who puts the two through a bizarre set of trials meant to help them discover whether they are really meant for each other, Robin Williams is downright creepy.
   Williams has progressed a long way from Mork’s planet Ork. He started by toning down the improvisational manic charm a notch or two, winding up in movies like Mrs. Doubtfire. He drained more and more energy from his performances, playing near-catatonic sociopaths in films like Insomnia and One Hour Photo. With License to Wed he seems to have been reduced to auto pilot.
   Brimming with bad puns and brittle false cheer, followed everywhere by a sickeningly "cute" prepubescent minister-in-training who seems to be developing into a first-class con man, Reverend Frank seethes with self-loathing — and no wonder. We know he’s supposed to be a "free spirit" because he talks to 10-year-olds about getting the clap, and to Sadie, his fresh-faced 20-something parishioner, about her favorite sexual positions. What a card.
   And it gets worse. Reverend Frank keeps goading Ben and Sadie, trying to make them uncomfortable or create tension between them. Whether it’s bullying Ben into doing things he doesn’t want to, nearly breaking his nose in a "friendly" game of hoops, or bugging his apartment, he’s even harder on Ben than his highly critical future in-laws. But it’s all for Sadie’s and Ben’s good, or so we’re supposed to believe. Yeah, yeah. If that’s so, maybe Donald Trump should be a marriage counselor.
   One of the most dubious moves Reverend Frank tries is giving Ben and Sadie animatronic twins to take care of, as a trial run for parenthood. The "little creepy robot babies," as Ben calls them, are even creepier than the reverend, pooping artificial — but realistically stinky — waste, "peeing" in Ben’s face, and exuding a river of goo from their nostrils.
   That’s entertainment, folks!
Rated PG-13 for sexual humor and language.