The Bachelor

Who do you cast if you're remaking Keaton's 1925 classic Seven Chances? It's obvious, really. The Buster Keaton of the '90s, Mr Chris O'Donnell. From here on, one senses, Brit director Sinyor's Hollywood comedy was doomed. The plot's still sturdy enough: an eccentric grandfather's $100m bequest depends on the protagonist's immediate marriage (or else he loses the family business), sticking at it for a decade, and fathering at least one child. To date O'Donnell's unwillingness to commit has put off Zellweger, his girlfriend of three years, and with her out of town and out of the picture, desperation looms. Delivering his usual 'jock in a china shop' performance, O'Donnell lacks the timing to make the material play, and Sinyor's slack direction offers little assistance. Only in the final reel does the film manage a flicker of real visual wit when a misguided newspaper ad unleashes a horde of would-be brides on to the streets of San Francisco.