A charming but problematic romantic comedy, Three to Tango wobbles between sublime farce and ridiculous contrivance in its detailing of the romantic triangle between an architect (Matthew Perry), a rich businessman (Dylan McDermott), and the businessman's mistress (Neve Campbell). What's the catch? Well, after an absurd misunderstanding, McDermott believes Perry to be gay when in actuality it's Perry's architectural partner (Oliver Platt) who is. Thinking Perry is "safe" material, the jealous McDermott enlists him to watch over Campbell so she doesn't flirt with any other guys, the tacit understanding being that if Perry keeps her out of anyone's arms, a lucrative job will be his. Of course, Perry is instantly smitten, and Campbell takes to him immediately. Both are flummoxed when McDermott reveals Perry's orientation, in one of the film's many subtly rich and funny scenes; Campbell is confused but accommodating, and Perry freaks out inside when he understands that if he wants to keep his job and stay out of debt he has to pretend to have no romantic feelings whatsoever for the woman he loves-and be her constant companion and closest friend. When it sticks to farce-screwball mixed with drawing-room comedy, Three to Tango closely resembles Tootsie, in which another man pretended to be something he wasn't in order to keep his job and his proximity to the woman he loves. However, it's the "gay issue"-and that's exactly how it's dealt with, quotation marks and all-that sadly sabotages the film. Where in Tootsie Dustin Hoffman's cross-dressing was taken in stride, the issue of Perry's supposed homosexuality is treated as an oppressive burden; it's not only borderline offensive, it badly bungles the film's delicate dynamics, weighing down a feather-light romance with excess baggage. It's too bad, because Perry and Campbell are better than you would ever have any reason to believe; their courtship is genuinely funny and touching, and after a while you will find emotional investment in these two ending up together. Despite the film's problems, they manage to pull it over the finish line. [+]

The winner of a Silver Bear at the Berlin Film Festival, Italian for Beginners is the first film made under the Dogme rules of austerity (no artificial lighting, no extraneous music, no imported props, etc) to be directed by a woman, Danish director Lone Scherfig. It's set in a small Danish town where half-a-dozen awkward misfits (the newly arrived pastor, a recently bereaved hairdresser, an ex-footballer turned abrasive bar manager, a put-upon baker's assistant and so on) are drawn together by the shared activity of an Italian-language evening-class and-yes, you guessed it-start coming out of their shells and finding love. This is a gentle, good-natured film, full of quirky dialogue and unforced humour. Scherfig derives a good deal of amusement from watching the gloomy, buttoned-up Danes gradually relaxing and expanding under the influence of their improved linguistic skills, and reaching out for happiness. (As usual in North European cinema, Italian equals everything that's spontaneous, life-loving and sexy. ) True, the pro-togetherness message is banal, and the whole film's altogether a little too pat, especially in the final neat pairing-off and the way a couple of obstructive parents helpfully contrive to die just when they need to. Still, the freshness of the largely improvised performances, and Scherfig's affectionate regard for her characters, make for a film that's hard to dislike. On the DVD: Italian for Beginners has no extras except the theatrical trailer. The transfer faithfully reproduces the mainly hand-held, digital video quality of the original. -Philip Kemp.

Breaking up is hard to do-but that doesn't mean you can't have some belly laughs about it. Forgetting Sarah Marshall provides that rare treat: a romantic comedy about breakups, that is both romantic and funny. The laughs, especially from writer-star Jason Segel, are both heartfelt and raunchy, and the film is just unexpected enough that it keeps the viewer's attention till the end. The touches of producer Judd Apatow, who's famously retooled rom-coms to appeal to guys as much as women, are woven throughout the film, but Segel's script, reportedly based on many of his own experiences, is fresh and original. And adult. Forgetting Sarah Marshall features male genitalia laffs presented in unexpected and human ways (the nude breakup scene is played for giggles but also deep poignancy), and the language and sex scenes are strictly for grownups-and rightly so. Segel's script, and his performance as Peter, show that he understands the true nature of adult relationships, which provides the refreshing difference between this film and some of Apatow's other crude creations. The cast is sublime; Kristen Bell (Veronica Mars) plays title character Sarah, a self-absorbed actress, and Russell Brand is her new British honey who accompanies her to-what are the chances?-the exact same Hawaiian resort as Peter, who's nursing his broken heart. Mila Kunis plays Rachel, the resort employee who gives Peter a reason to hope, and Paul Rudd is the surfing instructor who gives him his own brand of heartfelt advice ("When life gives you lemons, just say 'F- the lemons' and bail," he says cheerily). The pacing is screwball, and the absurdities fly (a "Dracula" musical puppet show, and a surprisingly lovely Hawaiian version of "Nothing Compares 2 U"). [+]

There is something so utterly captivating about this Bill Forsyth film-whether it's the quaintly authentic Scottish accents (they had to be softened for its US release) or the wholly universal story of young love. But what really gives Gregory's Girl its evergreen appeal is the enchanting performance of young Gordon John Sinclair as the eponymous gangly lead. With his shock of red hair, he's all arms and legs-and inexperience. Gregory becomes infatuated with Dorothy (a lovely Dee Hepburn), who proves a heartier and better athlete than he is. Gregory's so clueless, he relies on advice from his wee sister. The story may be familiar, but Forsyth's astute and affectionate rendering gives the film its momentum (the film won best screenplay at the British Academy Awards). If American viewers at first struggle to understand the well-written banter, it is worth the effort because there's charm in nearly every line. It's curious that both Sinclair and Hepburn, seemingly poised on the brink of stardom here, either chose not to take advantage of the possible opportunity or weren't ever offered roles as wonderful as these. (Sinclair had a small role in Forsyth's Local Hero and starred in 1986's The Girl in the Picture and other small films. Hepburn appears to have worked only once post-Gregory, a brief stint in the British series Crossroads. [+]

The bright, glossy world of Doris Day and Rock Hudson sex comedies gets a self-aware brush-up in Down with Love. Pillow-lipped Renée Zellweger (Chicago) plays Barbara Novak, the author of a bestselling book called Down with Love that advises women to focus on their careers and have sex à la carte-just like a man would. Determined to prove that Novak is just as vulnerable to love as any woman, dashingly chauvinist magazine writer Catcher Block (ever-charming Ewan McGregor, Moulin Rouge) pretends to be a courtly astronaut who wouldn't dream of putting his hand on a woman's knee. This piffle of a story seems like nothing more than an excuse for ironic double-entendres and dazzling production design, until a sneaky plot twist suddenly raises the stakes for the movie's end. As he always does, the brilliant David Hyde Pierce (Frasier) scores the most comic points as Block's fussy editor. -Bret Fetzer.

Irma La Douce reunited The Apartment team of Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine with director Billy Wilder in an adaptation of the stage musical of the same name which had been a hit in Paris, London and New York. The screen transfer by Wilder and his colleague-writer IAL Diamond-however, omits the show's songs, relegating them to a background score refashioned by Andre Previn with some additional themes of his own. Background here is a complimentary term, for whatever qualms one might entertain as to this move, the two sets of themes are skilfully woven together by Previn and emerge as a witty and lyrical aural delight in their own right which is given due prominence on the soundtrack. Wilder is no rush to tell prostitute Irma's story: her affair with Lemmon being the pivot of the tale as he takes on the disguise of an English Lord. Lemmon and MacLaine beautifully play their mutual attraction under Wilder's deft direction with the slapstick never allowed to get out of hand. Many will recognise Wilder's touch in his handling of the scene where Lemmon as a policeman is carted off in a van full of voracious prostitutes from the bunks-in-the-train sequence in Some Like It Hot. The handsome production, designed by Alexander Tranner-with the occasional view of the Seine thrown in for good measure-and the Panavision photography by Joseph La Shelle are further assets. On the DVD: The DVD contains a longer than usual theatrical trailer, half shot as a cartoon with characters closely resembling those Pink Panther figures who emerged at the same time from the Mirisch Brothers, a pair prominent in sustaining the unique success of United Artists, whose name was deleted, in favour of the MGM logo, in the early 1960s. It's too bad that the music on this DVD transfer sometimes strikes a coarse note particularly over the extended opening credits. -Adrian Edwards.

This is a surprising disappointment, considering it is the third film from director Danny Boyle, writer John Hodge and actor Ewan McGregor. This disjointed and strained romantic comedy is not even near the same league as Trainspotting and Shallow Grave. Cameron Diaz is a spoiled heiress and McGregor an aimless janitor brought together by two angels (Holly Hunter and Delroy Lindo) hoping to hang onto their wings. McGregor kidnaps Diaz, the boss's daughter, after being fired from his crummy job. She is not all that averse to being snatched. Most of the laughs are lost to a scattershot story that feels preposterous instead of magical. -Rochelle O'Gorman.