Sex appeal trumps humility

The ludicrously titled romantic comedy Ghosts of Girlfriends Past is not much of a movie, to be sure. But it has redeeming moments.

Like the bastard child of a love affair between A Christmas Carol and Casanova, the story features the humbling of a philanderer by way of three spectral visitations over the course of one night, taking him along to view scenes of girlfriends (most of them wronged) past, present and future.

We pick up with Connor Mead (Matthew McConaughey) as he makes a command performance at the rehearsal dinner for his brother's wedding. Also attending is an old flame. Actually, he's bedded most of the women present at one point or another, but this one's different. Jenny Perotti (Jennifer Garner) knows all too well that Mead is a cad, but there is a special connection between them, tracing back to their shared childhood.

A love connection between this pair is seemingly precluded by a difference in worldview. She is romantic and caring, while he's a dyed-in-the-wool cynic with an appetite for the hunt. According to Mead, love is nothing more than "magical comfort food for the weak." It's a childish myth, he believes, that leads to a sedentary, boring lifestyle.

As with many real-life Don Juans, Mead's womanizing is largely driven by insecurity and fear. He wants to maintain control and be impervious to emotional pain. "The real power in any relationship," he lectures, "lies with the person who cares the least."

Mead learned his tricks with women and his philosophy about the good life from a Hugh Hefner-like uncle, Wayne Mead (Michael Douglas, in a hilarious turn). "One day," his uncle tells the young Mead, "you'll find yourself spooning some woman and thinking about love." He cautions the boy that this is precisely the moment he must flee for his life, that however tempting relationships might seem, they are designed to emasculate and cause pain. Mead has taken such sentiments and made a religion of callousness out of them. But, these many years later, the now-deceased Wayne has had a change of heart. "Women love to be screwed," his ghost explains. "They just don't like to be screwed over."

Realizing he has led his nephew astray, Wayne sets out from beyond the grave to set things right by showing him the error of his ways. He is assisted in his effort by the ghost of the brace-faced eccentric Allison Vandermeersh (Emma Stone), who took Mead's virginity in middle school. She leads Mead on a tour of girlfriends past - a virtual festival of broken hearts - before turning him over to the ghost of Mead's assistant, Melanie (Noureen DeWulf), who takes him on a tour of girlfriends present. Finally, a mute angelic type (Olga Maliouk) details the bleak and loveless future he has in store for him if he keeps up his philandering ways.

By film's end - as is inevitable with such a premise - Mead is singing a different tune. Power may indeed lie with he or she who cares the least, but, as our reformed whore humbly explains, "Power isn't love."

Very noble, that - and very boring. There's a direct correlation between Mead's level of sincerity and the level of tedium onscreen. As he softens, the film lags, and the predictability of the plotting begins to take its toll. Mead's intrinsic interest lies in his ruthless and clear-eyed apprehension of certain truths about human nature. He may not get the more important things in life (love, fealty, respect), but he gets irreverence. And irreverence plays.

As with W.H. Auden's poetic injunction, "If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me," Mead commits himself, if not to selflessness, than to a much deeper notion of love and relationship. If only the kinder, gentler Mead were as amusing a persona as the rogue.

James Walling can be reached at
jwalling@praguepost.com