Heartbreakers

Heartbreakers wants to be a distaff variation of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, compensating for lack of intelligence with ample cleavage provided by Sigourney Weaver and Jennifer Love Hewitt. This alone should draw plenty of drooling guys who will enjoy the scenery and affirm the movie's depiction of men as lecherous idiots. And what scenery it is! Dressed up in trampy glamour, Weaver and Hewitt play mother-and-daughter grifters with a devious routine: Max (Weaver) lures wealthy cads into marriage, and then daughter Page (Hewitt) seduces them, so mom can discover the infidelity and fleece the chump in divorce court. They've just scammed the boss of a hot-car ring (Ray Liotta) and now it's on to Palm Beach, Florida, where they'll dupe a wheezing tobacco baron (Gene Hackman) and retire to the good life. Or so they think...

Armed with the same air headed humour he brought to Romy and Michele's High School Reunion, director David Mirkin relies on the clichéd notion that sex turns all men into morons--a conceit that would have worked if the dialogue and sitcom antics were more convincing. Additional plot twists--not to mention Hewitt's microskirts and Wonderbras--may hold your attention, but you may find yourself harking back to Steve Martin, Michael Caine, and those happier high jinks on the French Riviera. --Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com