It is a film that embodies Hugh Laurie's man with the daughter of his younger friend (Leighton Meester), who was somewhat surprising. Over time, this relationship will not be as expected by the two. Rather, it puts lasting friendship between the two families on a bad path for many.
The leafy green trees evident everywhere in what purports to be New Jersey Christmas scenes aren't the only thing that feels off in the predictable domestic bedroom comedy The Oranges.
The Oranges dabbles with transgressive ideas (for a moment it felt like the film was implying that infidelity could be a positive force in everyone's lives) before retreating into stupefyingly predictable and safe rhythms.
It's the cast that carries a film like this, offering a strong level of acting gravitas to support a bitingly cynical script about the tawdry happenings in a suburb.
You want something that plays a little sharper, and cuts a little deeper. You want something that demands more of its performers, and delivers more to its audience.
You know the movie has an insurmountable problem when the two adulterers, who profess to be madly in love, don't even seem like they want to be in the same room.
