Colin Firth’s boss, Alan Rickman, is a bastard. With some help from his art-forging friend, the Major, and rough American diamond, Cameron Diaz, he tries to swindle him. Cue predictable farce, and apparent failure. But, no, not on this occasion. Firth’s plan succeeds.
Another drinks coaster.
Larry Crowne finds himself unemployed for want of a post-secondary qualification. But does he start crying, arm himself with an assault rifle, and go postal on his former employers? No, of course not. Tom Hanks has never done that, except in that movie when he was a hit man. But apart from that, he’s the Jimmy Stewart of the 21st century.
Crowne heads off to his local poly where Julia Roberts works as one of the teachers. “Since there are only eight of you here, the class is cancelled. Alcohol here I come!” Or so she says until Crowne joins the class. “Thanks to you, Larry, I have the will to teach again.”
Saccharine. Diabetics should avoid this film at all costs.