By Connie Ogle
The most astounding thing about this abysmal comedy — aside from the fact the studio actually allowed critics within a mile of it — is that it’s so ghastly it is beneath even the meager dignity of Paris Hilton. Starring in an explicit sex tape or sobbing as you’re shipped off to jail or wearing giant shirts with your own picture on them aren’t nearly so humiliating as being associated with this rubbish.
Insulting to any male or female with a pulse or without, the film follows the efforts of perennial loser Nate (Joel David Moore, kind of a latter-day Tom Green, if you can imagine such a horror) to win the affections of his first-grade true love Christabelle (Hilton). The problem: Christabelle’s beast-like best friend June (Christine Lakin), who sports grotesque moles and snaggly gray teeth and chases off all men who attempt to date her buddy.
Christabelle likes sex a lot but has sworn herself to celibacy until June gets a date, and so the jobless Nate, who passes around $2,000 makeovers like Chiclets, devotes himself to finding a guy for June. Of course, once the hair plugs and skin grafts kick in, he starts wondering if maybe he’s backed the wrong horse.
Even this dismal description of the plot makes The Hottie and the Nottie sound better than it is. Some critics — not this one — have ripped 27 Dresses as a lousy romantic comedy, and as punishment they should be shipped off to sit through this film, after which they will rush to their thesauruses, trying to find new synonyms for ”appalling.” There is truly not one laugh to be had here, not a chuckle, not even one moment that isn’t excruciating. Imagine the worst movie you’ve ever seen. Got it? Now try to think of something worse. That something is this movie — wretched, embarrassing and a waste of the time and energy of everyone involved.