One of an endless, generic number of numbskull romantic comedies that have flourished in the 1990s, this tedious film from writer, director, and star Eric Schaeffer begs many questions that deserve answering, none more pressing than, "Why would anybody front the money for this?" Schaeffer grates in a lead role that, although he has written it, is beyond his ability to portray sympathetically; although he's the ostensible hero of the piece, he comes across as smarmy and weak instead of likable and engaging. That's when he's at his best. At his worst, Schaeffer seems like an extra or crew member who has wandered into the frame. If he'd had the wisdom to cast another performer (one who could, say, act), his film would have been merely mundane, one of a faceless mob of similar product, rather than memorably heinous. Sarah Jessica Parker is lost in a goofball role with motivations that are elusive and suspect, while Elle Macpherson's presence can only be explained by the fact that Schaeffer wanted to make out with a supermodel on film. It is only when Ben Stiller appears as an avant-garde artist named Bwick that the film suddenly manages a comic pulse, but Stiller's a supporting player here and his presence simply isn't enough to revive this D.O.A. project. Finally, the ending is all too predictable, given that the title pretty much gives it away. If Lucy Fell would be an awful lot better if she did.
by Karl Williams review