Say what you want about "Notting Hill." No, really, rip into it, it's awful. Is anyone really interested in watching Julia Roberts complain about being a successful actress? I like Hugh Grant as much as the next man (translated: not at all), but I have no vested interest in watching him fall in love. His quirky Britishness was appealing enough in "Four Weddings and a Funeral," but I don't need to be repeatedly convinced that a jack-ass deserves love.
There is, however, one good scene.
For Hugh and Julia's adorable first date, he brings her to his friends' house for dinner. This is the one honest scene in the movie. What would happen if you brought a movie star home with you? His sister follows her into the bathroom. His pathetic friend trips over himself trying to connect with her. After dinner, they fight for the last brownie.
The brownie scene is my favorite part. They go around the table telling their sob stories, the winner earning the brownie. One is cursed with ugly physical features and a horrible instinct for men. One is paralyzed by a car accident and just found out she can't have children. And then there's Julia. For a brief moment, I feel her pain as she talks about the tabloid pressures and the plastic surgeries that have becomet the unfortunate side-effects of stardom. But then she goes on to reveal that she knows she's a horrible actress and dreads that one day the world will discover she sucks and she'll fade into oblivion having contributed nothing real to the world.
For the rest of the movie, Hugh's adorable friends are criminally underused, probably why the rest of the movie blows.
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