The Proposal

I’m trying to figure out if I liked The Proposal more when it was called What Happens in Vegas or when it was called The Wedding Date or when it was called Green Card.
Come to think of it, I’m trying to decide if I like this story better when Sandra Bullock plays the demanding boss, as she does here, or when she plays the put upon assistant, as she did in Two Weeks Notice.
You get the point. Been there, done that with this rom-com formula: Bullock’s Margaret Tate is a humorless book editor who has her staff jump through hoops, no more so than her dutiful personal assistant Andrew Paxton (Ryan Reynolds). Andrew is tethered to Margaret because he wants to become an editor himself, and she’s his ticket to a promotion. So when Margaret demands that Andrew marry her (she’s been threatened with deportation), he reluctantly agrees.
Of course, there’s a suspicious INS agent, forcing Andrew and Margaret to take a trip to Andrew’s hometown of Alaska for the 90th birthday of his “Gammie” (a game Betty White).
Cue Bullock teetering in heels, schlepping way too many bags onto a boat, and having a hard time adjusting to the Paxton family bonding.
The problem with The Proposal, other than its own limited aspirations, is that Margaret doesn’t warm up in a believable way. One minute, she’s uptight and prudish, the next minute she’s sharing intimate stories of  her tattoo and singing Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock songs with Andrew. There’s a kiss that’s supposed to show all the great physical chemistry Andrew and Margaret have, but they look like they’re in pain.
It’s a shame—Bullock and Reynolds are both such naturally likeable actors (although Reynolds has to be careful not to come across as glib), but I’m not feeling them here. And any movie that manages to make Sandra Bullockunlikable is what the kids call an epic FAIL.