From Jeremy Kibler

Don’t be hard on yourself if you thought the new Netflix wedding comedy Mother of the Bride was just a gender-reversed redo of Father of the Bride (any of the four versions will do). It’s not, but it definitely feels like a redo of a few, no, many retro romantic comedies. Thoroughly predictable as April showers, this light, pleasant-enough distraction won’t be bringing non-subscribers to the streamer post-haste. Just don’t be surprised if the cast having fun in the sun rubs off on you in spite of some mostly lame writing.

As the titular “mother” of the bride, Brooke Shields looks lovely and shows a self-deprecating knack for screwball comedy here and there. She plays Dr. Lana Winslow, a widowed Bay Area geneticist whose precious brand ambassador daughter, Emma (Miranda Cosgrove), surprises Mom with some big news. Instead of looking for a job or going to grad school, she’s engaged to business consultant RJ (Sean Teale), whom she’s been dating without her mom’s knowledge, and they’re getting married in Thailand in a month. (It’s also being paid for by Emma’s company, so life is pretty good.) That’s not the only surprise for Mom — of all the hot, single Latin venture capitalists in all the world, RJ’s father turns out to be Will (Benjamin Bratt), Lana’s former Stanford flame who broke her heart. You’ll never guess what happens next. 

Director Mark Waters (who gave us Mean Girls and the Freaky Friday remake but also that vapid Addison Rae vehicle He’s All That) must have had a blast working with this cast. The we’re-on-vacation-and-getting-paid vibe is very infectious, but Robin Bernheim Burger’s script is pretty banal with a lot of blatantly expository dialogue and occasionally forces its characters to act beneath their intelligence with misunderstandings and poolside confessions. The film does at least try to handle its generational characters in an even-keeled manner; Lana is overbearing but not unreasonable, while Emma often comes across as an entitled brat, until realizing her priorities.

Playing characters who have romantic baggage together, Shields and a still-buff Bratt have okay chemistry. Cosgrove and Sean Teale are cute as a button, but they’re mainly asked to be boring window dressing. Along for the ride are some funny supporting players like Rachael Harris, as Lana’s horny best friend Janice; and Wilson Cruz and Michael McDonald, as Will’s gay brother Scott and Scott’s husband Clay, who all went to Stanford with Will and Lana. They’re never more than the voice of reason or it’s-always-wine o’clock comic relief, but at least they’re pros with the comedy. Chad Michael Murray also poses as a complication playing a younger hunky doctor (“Hemsworth Hottie”) at the resort who has its eyes on Lana, but the script never needed him.

A brightly lighted travelogue promo for Anantara Resorts in Phuket, Thailand that found its way into a 90-minute movie, Mother of the Bride is an easy-breezy diversion at best. It’s full of clichés and pratfalls you could set your watch to, but the likable, attractive cast really does finesse this contrived, sometimes dumbed-down material as best as it can. Even a pickleball-to-the-balls slapstick bit. 

In a wedding-centric ensemble piece, there seems to almost always be a choreographed dance number tacked on during the end credits. It’s a curtain call of sorts, as if to gaslight you into thinking you had as good of a time as the cast. Sure enough, there is one here—and it is introduced early on during the wedding plans—and oh boy should the choreographer be fired. Still, the filmmakers know what they’re doing and almost trick you.

Mother of the Bride offers a few mild laughs and sweet sentiments involving mothers and daughters, but it’s only as buoyant as its sparkling cast and gorgeous scenery. If it does anything worthwhile, it will make you want to book a stay at Anantara Resorts pronto.

Rating: 2.5/5

Mother of the Bride is currently streaming on Netflix.

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