Metacritic-Rezensionen

Redgrave shimmers like one of Tuscany's magnificent cypress trees as an Englishwoman searching for Lorenzo (Nero).

It is sweet and sentimental and embraces the fantasy (although it would have worked better without the treacly pop songs on the soundtrack).

Is Gary Winick atoning for his sins? If “Bride Wars” was an acid spill -- and that’s putting it generously -- then Letters to Juliet is like the safety shower in your high school chemistry class, delivering an unsubtle blast of sanitized sentimentality.

Put this title on your Netflix queue in the first place. Just give your own Mr. Right a break and don't waste your date-night dollars on the big screen.

This movie believes that true love isn't supposed to be hard. A fine ideal, but it feels as flat as a pizza.

Vanessa Redgrave bails out this mushy Italian-postcard romance.

Bland, predictable picture, whose sole assets are a cute premise, the Italian countryside and the dignity Vanessa Redgrave brings to a part that, on the page, is quite beneath her.

Jose Rivera and Tim Sullivan's script relentlessly piles on goopy conversation-stoppers like "Do you believe in destiny?" and "I didn't know that true love had an expiration date."

Gary Winick's flat direction does the material no favors: If Egan and Seyfried have any chemistry, it's framed out of their awkwardly staged climactic kisses.

The larger problem is that the central duo is just plain dull.