The South Falls, Again

You know where this thing's headed -- something about the promotional tagline, "Sometimes what you're looking for is right where you left it," gives it away, dunno what -- which means the ride to the inevitable destination had better be enjoyable, or at least a little scenic. But it can't be in a film populated by yahoo stereotypes who appear to have been lifted from failed TV pilots: Fred Ward as the proud pop obsessed with Civil War re-enactments; Bergen as the snooty bitch inexplicably covered in boils by film's end, suggesting a whole lot of deleted scenes somewhere; a closeted small-town gay guy and the black New York fashion designer who will, likely, make him a man. Which leaves Witherspoon, that delicious pastry, to heave the movie on her small shoulders and carry it home. The load is light -- the movie weighs no more than a glass of flat champagne -- but even she can't withstand the burden. No one can when saddled with lines like, "You know, I never understood that expression, but, no, I am not shitting you." No, of course she isn't. Docked, also, for using the title song twice, once with Jewel singing lead.