It's my fault. I just couldn't do it. I only made it 15 minutes in. I know what the commenters will make of this—Indie snob asshole prick fuckface! You just think of what's the "contrary" thing to say and pretend that's what you think! Do your job for once! You're an asshole! You hate every movie, including Avatar, which is empirically amazing! Savage, fire him! I hope you fall off the viaduct and die! (am I forgetting anything?)—so I'll explain after the jump. But if you're looking for a review of It's Complicated on our website and you're not finding it, I am to blame.

Here's what happened. Hot-potato-passer Lindy West, being given a brand new hot potato in the form of a Nancy Meyers film starring Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin, knows I have a thing for Meryl Streep, so she handed this steaming potato off to me, and I marched down to the screening in the middle of trying to send two issues of The Stranger to the printer simultaneously (so we could all take a couple days off for Christmas). I watched the first couple scenes. They consisted of Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin, playing exes, making awkward small talk at a party; Baldwin's new girlfriend coming out and surprising Streep because she is so young and has a tight stomach; then a scene of Streep saying goodbye to her second daughter going off to college, first trying to get her not to leave by offering to take her shopping at "that big Bed, Bath and Beyond," then saying wistfully, "One of you is always moving out—I'm just wondering who I'm going to watch The Hills with"; the daughter driving off in a silent Prius, the overly foley-sound-effected gravel crunching very loudly; Streep in her kitchen after her daughter has driven off, sighing, taking off her earrings, eating a grape, and lugubriously looking out the window, either because her daughter has just driven off or because she can't remember why she agreed to be in a movie with such stock characters and over-the-top product placement aimed at middle-aged women from companies like Bed, Bath & Beyond and Toyota Prius; and then a scene where Streep is talking to a remodeler about how she doesn't want his and her sinks in her bathroom anymore, just a her sink, because having the his sink there "makes me sad"; and then a scene of Streep sitting in a plastic surgeon's office explaining that she doesn't want anything too serious, but there's this wrinkle above her eye that she really wants to get rid of...

And then I got up. I just couldn't do it. Not even Streep could rescue this material. I mean no disrespect to people who like Nancy Meyers films. Certainly, there is an argument to be made for their worth. But I was short on time, and not in the mood, so I bailed. Plus, I'm pretty sure the poster gives away what ends up happening.