The Switch

We know from the first moment that Jennifer Aniston and Jason Bateman will wind up together – because if Hollywood wants us to believe anything, it’s this: unless one of them is gay, a man and woman can never be anything but friends. Ever. The Switch tries to offer us something new, a different shade and texture into the romantic comedy formula, but it quickly turns trite and relies upon tired sitcom answers and responses to solve its questions. And since, as a quick Google search as informed me, it was based upon a Jeffrey Eugenides short story, the film’s reliance upon pat answers really spits in the face of not just the audience, but the desecrated source material as well.

Bateman’s inherent likability forces us to tolerate his neurotic asshole of a character. And the script always reminds us through his actions, and the reactions of those around him, that was never truly meant to be easily digestible rom-com fluff. And the ending’s tacked on happy ending creates choppy waters which the film never truly manages to float steadily on. Perhaps it was the casting of Jennifer Aniston that managed to turn this into dark, complicated fair and turned into an ugly step-sister that demands simple resolutions, and for its allegedly smart characters to never utter the one or two lines of dialog that would wrap up the whole conflict until the absolute best time – roughly thirty minutes before it’s supposed to end.