Labored debut offering a step-by-step guide to planning a wedding and losing your mind.
Stephen pops the question while waiting in line for movie theater snacks. Amy say yes to him, no to nachos, and swings into action. No pastel bridesmaid gowns for this hip, sophisticated New Yorker. She’s a fast-rising editor at a serious newsmagazine and not easily flustered. The amazing secret to her success: lists! So she starts her latest and greatest to-do countdown with enthusiasm, although she’s never been involved in preparing a wedding before. First, everything has to be discussed over and over with her girlfriends and family, because it all costs so much and it’s all so incredibly complicated. The inevitable squabbles ensue on account of Amy being so totally nervous and everything. Yes, she wants to marry Stephen, even though he’s obsessed with sports to the point where he’s delighted with her gag gift: the history of basketball printed on toilet paper. Still, he likes four out of five of her favorite things: laughing, eating, reading, and sex. (Not shopping.) He’ll do. Amy can’t believe she’s acting just like every other dopey bride-to-be, obsessing—with the expensive help of a wedding planner—over centerpieces and invitations and bands. She’s dreaming about sauna sex with strangers . . . is it possible that she’s not ready to get married? There are other important questions. Why did her beleaguered secretary quit when Amy needed her most? Can her proud parents possibly be coaxed to spend more money? Is the right Upper East Side church available? Will her nutty grandma ever calm down? Her mother’s ghastly wedding dress fits perfectly, but must she wear it? And ohmigod, what about shoes? Somewhere in the midst of all this chaos, Stephen sensibly disappears. Will he come back?
Lots of lists, footnoted comments on the action, and not very funny screenplay-style dialogue: all of them bits and pieces that don’t add up to much.