THE PERFECT MAN

RATING:

Starring: Hilary Duff, Heather Locklear, Chris Noth, Mike O'Malley, Ben Feldman, Vanessa Lengies, Carson Kressley. Written by Gina Wendkos. Directed by Mark Rosman.

Rated PG for some mildly suggestive content

I have an embarrassing confession: I sorta enjoyed “The Perfect Man.” Don’t get me wrong—it’s an awful movie. The cheese if pungent, the story predictable, and the dialogue is cribbed from Hallmark.

Set to some screechy, whiny music (we’re in Lifetime television territory from the get-go), Holly (Hillary Duff) learns that, once again, she has to move schools and find new friends. Holly always moves. Her mother, Jean (Heather Locklear), apparently skips town every time a sitcom doesn’t work out. I mean every time a relationship doesn’t move out.

So poor Holly blogs away (yes, she blogs, reason #427 that blogging is no longer hip or cool), telling the world that she’s moved yet again. Good God, why would anyone read Holly’s blog? Then again, why would anyone pay money to watch Hillary Duff? Anyways. Holly and Jean settle in Brooklyn, where they land in a roomy, 3-bedroom, 2-story house. Right. Jean’s a cake-maker at a local bakery. I need to get me some of that cake-making action.

As Holly meets yet another group of friends, decorates yet another bedroom, and acclimates to yet another school system, she realizes that the root of all the moving is her mother, and, specifically, her mother’s trouble with men.

She therefore hatches one of the worst plans of all-time, right up there with Hitler invading Russia in the winter: she decides to invent a fictitious “perfect man,” pretend that he’s into her mom, and then….well, Holly didn’t think that far ahead. But she picks a decent role model: Mr. Big (Noth). There’s no point in using his name, since director Mark Rosman (“A Cinderella Story,” yet another Duff triumph) doesn’t bother to devote any time on characterization, instead trusting that Brand Mr. Big is sufficient.

This unintentionally sinister plan, frankly, is why a tiny part of me didn’t hate this movie. When you think about it, Holly’s idea is just plain mean-spirited. She invents a fake e-mail address for Mr. Big. She writes her mom some flirtatious e-mails. Which is also a little un-wholesome, and mildly—mildly, grant you—interesting. I was waiting for the cyber-sex but, sadly, Rosman draws a line somewhere.

Holly builds her mother up, sweeps her off her feet, and then, with the ruthlessness of your typical lothario, she calls things off and almost breaks her heart. Not bad for Lifetime.

(SPOILER!) No Hillary Duff movie, of course, would ever end in heartache. Things work themselves out. (END SPOILER!)

But the unintentional cruelty is just specific enough, just provocative enough, to make you care—a smidgeon—about the relationship between Holly and Jean. The hugs are earned. Even the sappy “I love you!”s are earned.

Even the most generous interpretation, however, cannot overlook the triteness of the script. Both Mr. Big and Jean like to do crossword puzzles in pen. (Ahhhhwww!!!!) They both like to cook. (Could he be the one?!?!?) They were both big hits on tv and now they lack careers. (A match made in heaven?!!)

And the jokes. Painful stuff. Holly, at one point, pretends that Mr. Big is in China. One of her friends talks to Jean on the phone, pretending to be Mr. Big, pretending to be in China. Jean: “So, you’re in China. What’s it like?” Fake Mr. Big: “China! It’s, it’s, it’s…. Chinese!”

And on that note.

Agree? Disagree? E-mail me at jeff@latinoreview.com.