It’s clear from the opening scene, in which our two couples bask in mutual bliss, that trouble is on the cards. It’s less clear, however, whether we’ll care. Vaughn’s character veers between smug and obsessive, James’s between tetchy and wet, while the female characters are essentially devices (the patient paragon, the wily deceiver) headed for their just deserts. The script offers more subtle observations on committed relationships but they’re decisively stifled. As if wary of suspicions that all this emotion stuff might be a bit, well, girly, there are also laboured sports motifs, awkward slapstick and punch-ups. The two lead characters’ day job is developing an electric car engine that sounds and feels like a gas guzzler and therefore is not ‘gay’. It’s a shame this closeted movie is too embarrassed by its own tendencies to do them justice.
Cast and crew