Let Go and Let God

Rachel Getting Married. The critics loved that shit. Jonathan Demme. Debra Winger! (?) A rambling house in Connecticut. HighDefDigVid. Interaciality. Rehab!

The story, briefly: Anne Hathaway gets out of rehab, goes home to where her NPR explosion of a family is celebrating her sister marrying the young Idi Amin, who is inexplicably fond of Neil Young. Bill Irwin is dad; he putters around. Debra Winger is mom, divorced from dad, moving in and out of scenes. Then Anne Hathaway remembers how she had a Chappaquidick, and her mom slaps her around, and her sister gets married, the end.

Anyway, I am a recreational drug user and all that, but I've got friends and relatives and lovers who are all twelve-steppers, and Jesus Christ, even when the movies get it right, they get it wrong. At one point, step-mom is all like, "We've been to Nar-Anon, Anne Hathaway." Um, apparently you missed the chapter entitled Detachment with Love, and decided instead to spring your whacked-out D-in-L from the residential program in order to Accept Her all weekend long, which is exactly the worst idea ever, the sort of thing you do on the first round of recovery, but swiftly learn Isn't Helping.

The critics who found this piece of trashy voyeurism so bracingly "honest" about addiction and "dysfunctional families" would condescend to anyone admitting an affection for Intervention, but I found little to separate the two, from the lousy plots to the lousy camera work.