Director : Richard Loncraine Starring : Kirsten Dunst, Paul Bettany, Jon Favreau Trailer for Wimbledon Videodetective (Windows Media 28-300k) (videodetective.com) Moviecentre.net - Various Trailers (www.moviecentre.net) More Movie Reviews...

A cute, kind of bumbling, kind of charming British guy. A headstrong, cool, sexy American girl. A meet-cute that involves some kind of almost-predestined accident. A whirlwind romance based on zingy one-liners and a mutual sexual attraction. Debates in which the two lovers try to reconcile their vastly different lives, hers more glamorous than his. Many shots of the two lovers frolicking in various photogenic British settings, with wacky supporting characters adding color and spark. A falling-out centered around a basic misunderstanding. A heartfelt plea by the guy. A sweet coming-around for the girl. A happy ending in which the bells ring and everybody smiles.

Sound familiar? If you have a romantic bone in your body and have watched films during the past ten years, you'll recognize the outline that's handed out on the first day of class in British Romantic Comedy 101, Or Four Scenes and a Finale. It was Richard Curtis who came up with this template in 1994's Four Weddings and a Funeral, a movie that proved so popular it merited a Best Picture Oscar nomination. He refined it five years later in Notting Hill, which switched things around a bit but still had Hugh Grant at the center. And now, five years later still, we have Wimbledon, which is not credited to Curtis in any way but might as well have his dainty fingerprints all over it. Cribbing from the oeuvre-establishing films that made Curtis a master in his domain, Wimbledon could pretty much be Notting Hill, except the two stars are blonde. Substitute tennis for movie stardom, and there's your romantic comedy ready-made!

Wimbledon's one saving grace, aside from the beautiful, lush cinematography by Darius Khondji, is protagonist Paul Bettany, who manages to peek his head above the rest of his lot, the British Leading Men You Can't Quite Remember. Lithe and blonde, good looking but not too handsome, Bettany has an easygoing manner that's not as bumbling but also not as refined as Hugh Grant's. Grant, despite his stammer, made the wooing of his maidens fair practically effortless, as he always seemed to reach up into the ether and pull down the one perfect line that would make the girl's heart melt. Bettany, however, seems much more down to earth, conveying that he is barely one step ahead in the sexy-banter game; you can practically see his brain working to come up with the right thing to say, and the amazement afterwards that it actually came out of his mouth. It makes him a little more approachable, and a perfect underdog for a sports story that holds pretty much no suspense whatsoever. I mean, why make a movie about Wimbledon where nobody wins?

Bettany is the kinda-famous tennis player Peter Colt, once ranked eleventh in the world but who's now only a few steps away from being a country club pro and the lust object of middle-aged women. Embarking on his last tournament, he's good-naturedly resigned to getting tossed out of Wimbledon on his tiny keister at the first possible moment—until a hotel mix-up sends him into the posh suite of American up-and-comer Lizzie Bradbury (Kirsten Dunst). Here, a peek at her in the shower (sorry, frosted glass, not clear) is the operative meet-cute, or rather meet-naked, and Lizzie's clearly taken with the tall blonde drink of water. (Though one wonders if any man who walked in would have tickled her fancy.) Sexy banter ensues on the practice court (one of the few times where Dunst and Bettany manage any chemistry) and gives way to fish and chips and a little hubba-hubba in her suite. First thing you know, Peter's got his mojo back, and finds himself climbing the ranks at the tournament. Lizzie, however, finds her game's getting a little erratic, inciting some paternal ire from her manager-dad (Sam Neill, in a throwaway role that's neither endearing nor menacing). Is this a love match, or a double-fault of the heart?

Actually, the romantic comedy part of Wimbledon seems almost tacked on, as it's Peter's return to grace and form that drives the plot's engine; by the time he gets to the all-important match, Lizzie's around but barely registers. In fact, Lizzie is basically the Glenn Close character from The Natural, for once she's in the stands and Peter knows he's watching her, the ethereal waves of light from her white tennis dress inspire him to become a winner. Sadly, not only is Dunst playing a Glenn Close character, she also seems to be playing a female version of Dermot Mulroney from My Best Friend's Wedding: a main character everyone's ga-ga about for no discernible reason other than she has a nice smile. Lizzie is pretty much a cipher, and Dunst's bland performance makes you yearn for the energy and moxie of her cheer captain Torrance from Bring It On, for despite Lizzie's drive, she's got no spark.

Dunst's non-performance is a bad stumble for the movie, though it's not unprecedented, as Andie MacDowell was a well-dressed block of wood in Four Weddings and Julia Roberts played an idealized version of herself in Notting Hill. Still, both those actresses exuded something close to chemistry with co-star Grant, and while Dunst seems friendly enough towards Bettany, she appears hardly excited to jump his bones. In fact, Bettany clicks better with the guy playing his best pal, a German tennis player named Dieter (improbably named but dreamier-than-dreamy Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) who's the only contestant in the entire tournament fleshed out besides Peter himself. The rest of the cast is filled with those stock "zany" characters that are now de rigeur in romantic comedies, the most noteworthy being Jon Favreau as the ruthless sports agent with a heart of gold who carries British and American flags to the final match, seeing as, well, he does represent both players.

For a movie that purports to be about tennis, Wimbledon shows very little of the famed tournament it's named for, though those green stadiums do look awfully pretty. And aside from a few "be the ball" shots, the movie musters up very little suspense or originality in staging its matches, and the stars look fairly ill-at-ease with a racket. Then again, Wimbledon doesn't really purport to be about romance either. At about the time when Dunst should be making the "girl standing in front of a boy asking him to love her" speech, we get instead the "girl standing in front of a boy telling him how to beat his opponent's serve" pep talk. Aw, how romantic!