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By Bret McCabe | Posted 6/22/2005

The English language hasn’t produced a suitably pungent word to convey the next-level of heinous that is director Nora Ephron’s Bewitched. A television-show movie adaptation turned TV-remake satire grafted onto a romantic comedy setting up yet another vehicle for Will Ferrell’s dorky voices and awkward mannerisms, Bewitched comes straight off the bottom of Dr. Moreau’s rejected script pile. Nicole Kidman plays Isabel—the movie’s real-life witch who just wants to be a normal woman turned actress playing a TV witch—like a cocker spaniel happy to be doing anything, especially if it brings her closer to the sometimes endearing but mostly assholic struggling Hollywood star Jack Wyatt (Ferrell), who needs to rebound from a movie bomb. Once Wyatt starts sidelining the naive Isabel on set and Isabel turns to her witchy ways to fight back, Bewitched morphs into a meandering, sparkless romance and you start looking for sharp objects on which to hurl yourself. Even minor character turd-polishers/scenery-chewers such as Michael Caine and Shirley MacLaine don’t even phone in their roles, leaving Post-its on-screen instead. Don’t just avoid—disown whoever tries to cajole you into seeing.

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