Unlike most American males, I have always been open to viewing a number of films in the male-opposed genre known as "chick flicks". My reason for braving these films are quite simple: first of all, I don't believe its reasonable to assault the merits or quality of a film genre without having explored it to some degree. Second of all, some of these films are actually quite good; quite a few of them actually.

When Harry Met Sally seduced me with a strong level of wit, and dialogue that was reminiscent of Woody Allen's best films. Moulin Rouge was a fascinating and original take on the musical genre, and the utilization of the poetic structure of modern pop music was fascinating. Even the recent Cameron Diaz/Kate Winslet vehicle The Holiday proved to be a charming entry into this very populous genre.

It is with this open mind that I chose to watch the recent film 27 Dresses, starring Katherine Heigl, an actress who has been a part of projects I both love (Knocked Up) and loathe (Grey's Anatomy). Unfortunately, the film that I observed was one of the most pathetic, cliche-ridden entries into the genre I have ever experienced. It is difficult to state one definitive reason why this film is awful, as there are many. Therefore, I think it is only best to outline its offenses, for the safety of any possible viewers of the film.

One of the first elements that is blatantly below quality standards is the plot. It details the trials and tribulations of Jamie (Katherine Heigl), a woman who has suffered the disappointment of being "always a bridesmaid, never a bride" no less than 27 times. It is made very apparent ... REPEATEDLY ... that her only dream is to one day be the bride at the center of all the attention. Adding to this fantasy is Jamie's infatuation with her boss (Edward Burns), whom she admires from afar and who is unaware of her feelings for him. Yet when Jamie's sister comes to visit, her boss and her sister fall for one another and are quickly engaged, leaving Jamie to have to assist with a wedding involving her sister and the object of her affection. Complicating matters is a wedding-related journalist who is secretly trying to compose a story about the notorious serial bridesmaid, while also (predictably) falling for her.

Now if the plot in itself is not enough to make one cringe, the production and presentation of the film does not help matters. One of my strongest beliefs relating to chick flicks is that the quality of a chick flick can be judged by the number of montages it relies upon; the more that are present, the worse the film is. Why? Because many of the montages in these types of films are meant to speed the action along, and if this device is used too often, it would seem apparent that the film has lousy pacing. In this particular film, it seems as if an obnoxious pop music-infused montage creeps onto the screen every 20 minutes.