I actually thought that the alien in 'Aliens' was actually Sigourney Weaver.
Imagine my chagrin when I saw this flick and caught Weaver as a bodacious 50-something
con artist baring her comedic chops to the max. I actually did a couple of double
flips before I could solely digest the fact that I was looking at someone who
could mouth a few lines and didn't have anything animatronic poking out of her
oral cavities each time she opened it.
I knew who Jennifer Love Hewitt was, though. She's the same babe who wears nothing much but a smile and the latest shade of eye shadow on practically all the covers of Cosmo.
With this bounty of knowledge tucked away into the seams of my intelligence, I jaunted out to catch the flick, which seems to a horrible rehash of the Steve Martin - James Caan 'Dirty Rotten Scoundrels'. Heartbreakers, someone might say, is not at all like the previously mentioned film - which is exactly my point. This flick is, and I repeat this, a country cousin twice removed of 'Dirty Rotten Scoundrels'.
'Con'genitally programmed by her mom to be a crook, Jennifer Love Hewitt plays Paige, who forms the other half of the 'concentric' circle completed by Ma Max (Sigourney Weaver). Barely dressed in two scraps of linen, the ma-daughter duo embarks on this screwball comedy by fleecing chop-shop entrepreneur Dean Cummano (Ray Liotta) in a quickie-divorce scam. The money soon follows, and close on the heels of that dough comes the IRS, wanting to know about Max's undeclared income.
To get herself out of this murky swamp, Max and Paige decide that there needs to be one final grand scheme to bail them out of their current fortitude.
Having set the scaffold for the scam, they head out to 'greener' (pun intended) pastures in order to lure and rip off other successful men with enough greenbacks to put the entire turtle population to eternal shame. Enter Crusty Tobacco tycoon William Tensy (Gene Hackman), who seems to be the perfect sacrificial bakra. Max manages to wheedle her way into his attention span, but Paige seems to have designs of her own.
Things take a different turn as Paige finds herself hurtling like a moth towards the flame, as she goes ga-ga over the nice guy bartender Jack (Jason Lee). Jack, much like the name doesn't suggest, makes Paige undergo her first crises involving her conscience. Paige, though, would like to empty Jack off his inheritance - this is, of course, if she manages to keep her emotions in check. Whatever! If you're still interested, the ex-husband Ray Liotta makes a comeback, sniffing around for Max; even if it sets him back by $300,000.
This is supposed to be a screwball caper filled with screwy situations (notice how I emphasize on the word screw!). Which is exactly what it isn't. Hajaar one-liners about stuff that you've already heard and could repeat halfway through your sleep abound in this flick. Also abounding are waistlines, hemlines and necklines.
Majorly lacking in wit and ingenuity, Heartbreakers turns out to be damper than a wet fish. The only way it would've been funnier (if it is funny in the first place) is if it were 2 hours shorter. The movie wheezes along and dangles ample amounts of cleavage to sustain your flagging interest.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Too late. 'Can I have your nuts?' coos Paige
coquettishly. Sure honey, just go easy on the salt!