Hope Springs

What an awful movie.
Heartbroken heartthrob Colin (Colin Firth) leaves England when his fiancée sends him a wedding invitation --she's marrying someone else. He goes to a small town called Hope in the US, merely because of the name, and hooks up with a peppy blonde (Heather Graham) who supposedly exudes all the virtues of the well-spoken, mild-mannered East Coast. Then the fiancée drops by and hilarity, cleverly disguised as an extremely boring and stretched-out hour of film, ensues.
There's no chemistry. There are no jokes. There is no plot. There is no spoon. Oh wait, that's another movie. You half expect any of the fairly decent actors to glance at the camera for a brief, panicked instance, wondering along with you what the hell they're doing in this unromantic noncomedy. But they don't. At least that would have made "Hope Springs" tolerable. As it is, it's just twenty minutes of already flat storyline rolled to fresh-pasta thinness of a tedious hour and a half. A tedious hour and a half, I might add, that I'd like to have back.