Look, I enjoy reading Playboy for the articles as much as the next girl. I’m never going to be offended by nudity. To be fair, if you came up to me right now and started stripping I guess I’d be perplexed, but not offended (because you’d clearly be a crazy person). But I’m really not sure I needed to see Anne Hathaway’s breasts every five minutes in Love And Other Drugs.
I am not saying that as a criticism of Anne Hathaway’s breasts. Yay for them. They look great. They look especially great since she’s playing highly sexed girl who is supposed to be dealing with Parkinson’s while dating a pharmaceutical rep (life threatening illnesses in movies seem to manifest themselves only insofar as they make people more beautiful). But I’m not really sure why her exposed breasts are there, or really, why they are there so much.
To be honest, I would understand it more if it were a much worse movie. I really appreciate the totally gratuitous nudity that crops up in movies from the 1980’s. Think Animal House. Why are there breasts? Because it’s Animal House. There should be breasts in every scene. It’s that kind of movie. People go to that movie expecting to see some ta-tas.
And, then, there are movies at the opposite end of the spectrum where there is a lot of completely essential nudity. Say, Monster’s Ball. That movie really wouldn’t be the same without the sex scene.
I guess my problem with Love and Other Drugs is that it’s simply not a great movie. It’s Love Story on Viagra. And I feel like by slowly exposing every inch of the actresses body they’re trying to elevate it into “great, serious movie” territory, which is impossible, because it’s essentially a weeper. I’m not saying it’s not good, it’s a very well done movie, but after a certain point it just feels like it’s having to spend a lot of time making sure that Anne Hathaway gets naked. Again.