Mary is a memorable comic creation for all the wrong reasons: glibly written, offensively characterised and bizarrely dressed, she's the classic screwball ditz taken to grotesque and at times unwatchable extremes.
He's the thing that lets Mary -- and the movie -- off the crazy hook. It quickly devolves into one of those 'what's normal anyway?' stories, and Bullock's dedication to the role is ultimately undermined.
There's no footing in reality. Nothing about it feels authentic: not the blathering Mary, not the lifeless secondary characters, not the bromide-happy dialogue or the plot that twists less often than it spasms.
Misfiring on every conceivable front, it's that rarest of comedies -- one whose stabs at humor fall painfully flat, while eliciting unintentional giggles every time the film seeks to be serious or deliver a message...
One is tempted to feel bad for the usually likable Bullock -- who looks fantastic here, we must note -- but she's one of the film's producers, so she can't be too ashamed of herself. I am embarrassed for her, however.