The Wilde Wedding

Close, Malkovich, and Stewart in a grown-up romantic comedy sounds like a dream, but Damian Harris' thinly plotted story about bed-swapping soon-to-be-relatives still underdelivers. The son of late Irish actor Richard Harris (whose first wife was a Welsh aristocrat and whose second was an American actress/model), Harris -- who was also married to an actress (Peta Wilson) -- clearly understands first-hand the highs and lows of two people in showbiz trying to make a life together. The Wilde Wedding's many themes about fame vs. critical respect, renown vs. money, ego, and self-aggrandizement all seem authentic, and the three esteemed actors are all up to the task of playing people who are well-known to various degrees.

The problem is all of the other characters, from the childish adult children who can't seem to help wanting to sleep with their new step-siblings to the underdeveloped adolescent/young-adult grandchildren who are either scandalous (Lundy-Paine's Lara shows up with a new, loud, blogging girlfriend) or overly sincere (Mackenzie, who wants to know what love is, even if it's what she feels for her second cousin). Driver stands out as a slightly unbelievable "rock goddess" who's Mackenzie's mother and Eve's favorite former daughter-in-law. She sings the titular remake of "White Wedding" with a zeal that says "cabaret" more than "arena frontwoman," but at least she can sing. Random other characters pop up, mostly to show what a mess these rich white folks are, but the movie doesn't amount to much other than an excuse to see three of the finest actors of their generation interact.