Written and directed by Craig, “Love. Wedding. Repeat” begins with an interrupted first kiss. Jack (Sam Claflin) and Dina (Olivia Munn) hit it off over the past few days during her visit to Italy, but just before he can make a move, an old friend of his interrupts and offers him an inopportune ride to the airport. Years later, on the day of Jack’s sister Hayley’s (Eleanor Tomlinson) wedding, they meet again by chance—and are also rudely interrupted by it. As the narrator billed as The Oracle (Penny Ryder) rambles on about love and chance, a group of kids wreaks havoc on the seating order of their table. Predictable chaos ensues as Jack is seated by his ex Amanda (Freida Pinto) and her new insecure beau Chaz (Allan Mustafa), Hayley’s reluctant maid of honor Bryan (Joel Fry) is seated by his filterless ex Rebecca (Aisling Bea), Dina is seated by a nightmare guest (Tim Key) who only talks about himself and a coke-addled former flame of Hayley’s, Marc (Jack Farthing), has crashed the party to ruin her big day. It falls on Jack to salvage the day and re-connect with Dina before it’s too late.
“Love. Wedding. Repeat” wants to have its cake and eat it, too. I can’t tell if the movie tried to skewer ridiculous rom-com conventions or make a failed replica, but the result is off-putting in any case. Whatever air of romance the Italian villa setting and cinematographer Hubert Taczanowski attempts to conjure up is ruined by just about everything else on screen. The crowded ensemble is rife with one-note, boorish characters who are much too clueless about human interaction to tolerate for copious amounts of time. Then, there’s the disembodied voice of The Oracle who makes us relive Hayley’s wedding day but with the table rearranged to give us a different outcome—for no discernible reason or explanation. No time loop, no rip in the space-time continuum, just because deus ex machina said so.
The movie focuses on the gaggle of insufferable English-speaking bridal guests, even though it's set in Italy and Hayley’s Italian husband’s family make up what looks like most of the party. (Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that they’re marginalized and out of the picture.) So much of the banter, and even some of the narration, centers on dick jokes that are more sad attempts at humor than anything else. When explaining the role of chance in love, The Oracle says that chance can give love “a kick in the balls.” Dina’s unwanted party guest complains a handful of times about the state of his testicles under his kilt. Chaz is so insecure in his testy relationship with Amanda, that he engages Jack in a figurative dick measuring contest. I’m sorry to say, the attempts at humor do not improve.
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