Respect Authority

Okay, so you know how Seth Rogen has been exploiting his recent status as the go-to funnyman for teen comedies as an excuse to set up plots wherein he makes out with and/or beds women far too beautiful to ever consider talking to Seth Rogen, let alone banging him?

Well in a fit of boredom yesterday I sat down with my Chinese food and a few beers and took in Adam Brody dramedy In The Land of Women, in which a 26-year-old disillusioned softcore porn writer (Brody) reacts to a bad breakup by moving in with his mildly demented grandmother. While there, he does some much-needed soul searching and, more importantly, makes out with every woman in a 100-foot radius.

Seriously, while Brody’s smarmy nerd-appeal was endurable on The O.C., where he was overshadowed by “I never smile” Benjamin McKenzie and “I’m straight, no I’m gay, no I’m straight again” Mischa Barton, given free reign to dominate a script as the lead male, Brody comes across as pretentious, annoying and oddly nasally. 

In the hopes of ruining this movie so you won’t be duped by HBO’s nonstop playing of it in the future, I’ll tell you what happens: Brody’s grandmother just happens to live across the street from an equally disillusioned mother (played by Meg Ryan) and her angst-ridden teenage daughter (Kristen Stewart, now of Twilight fame), both of whom he manages to make out with in a short amount of time. In fact, considering the movie opens with a pathetic breakup scene between Brody and his French-model girlfriend, the fact that only a few short days in Chateau Demented Grandma has him fending them off with a stick makes the movie just that much less belieavable. Not that I really believed Meg Ryan would ever make out with Adam Brody (spoiler alert), even if she did have breast cancer. 

Land of Women offers the same sort of cliche and heartwarming sentiments proferred by equally tear-jerky movies like Stepmom, except with the addition of masturbatory pats on the back from Adam Brody to, well, himself. Predictably, although Brody doesn’t get either girl, he turns the entire thing into the sort of coming-of-age novel that probably went on to inspire The O.C. in the first place. And while teenage girls the world over were fawning over his witty commentary and floppy hair, I was vomiting discreetly into my lap.