A compendium of cliches, with a music-related storyline devised to give it a fresh, romantic slant but that only contributes to the fact that this bland indie is as stale as they come. Megan Griffiths' tiresome comedy-drama seems intent on fulfilling every requirement made of it by convention, be they dictated by its independent leanings or those toward the vapid romance genre that's normally female-led but male-driven. Despite two of three credited screenwriters, two of three producers, the editor, the lead and the director all being women, Lucky Them is just like the rest of those films in this regard, only drearier than most, and afflicted with the notion that sappy indie music and the inane fandom that (barely) surrounds it can elevate such tiresome content. Toni Collette plays a music journalist for a hilariously 'hip' magazine (it doesn't even exist online), where she toils at 'breaking' painfully earnest buskers and struggling wunderkinds with a guitar and a dream, and preferably a pair of puppy-dog eyes, into the business. She's tasked with writing a piece on her ex, a supposed legend whose songs sound like Coldplay B-sides and who goes by the astoundingly charismatic name of Matthew Smith! And all this in the worst movie wardrobe ever dumped on a writer with apparently low funds yet comfier living arrangements than half of this movie's principal cast probably boasts in real life. She seeks support in her sassy barmaid friend, with whom she finds time to talk about love, life and loss, perhaps in a desperate effort to find something to discuss lest she vomit herself to death at the awfulness of this setup. She and I both.
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