It's official. Over Her Dead Body bites the dust, is D.O.A., dreadfully formulaic, completely devoid of redeeming spirituality, not worth a pulse check, lifeless, makes six feet under look attractive, and fills otherwise earnest bloggers with a desire to commit suicide. Why throw away good money at a cinemaplex when the two minute and thirty second version does a brilliant understudy? Better yet, if you can stomach the black background, download the spoiler for your next bathroom break.
Too bad, really. "She was crushed (not touched) by an angel" is a great line. Sorry, Google still hasn't enabled line through wording at Blogger.
Isn't anyone willing to plug the twenty or so screen minutes of Eva Longoria Parker's firmly toned torso, skin tight arms, and pouty yet perky puss? Grapevine buzz for Paul Rudd's dead on comic timing isn't enough reason to endure this ninety-five minute requiem. But with a slightly different angle, testosterone might soon be lining around the block.
