Letters to Juliet

Letters is Viagra for vaginas.

Enter the formula of “chick flicks”.  Letters to Juliet occupies Italy, not unlike the Nazis.  Prepare for flyovers galore.  Over the sweeping hillsides, pillar-like cypress gardens, through the narrow streets and alleyways and out into bustling city centers.  This is not a trick.  Women are meant to see this and gush, “oh I wish I could go there”.  As the pompous New Yorker editor replies at the end of the film, “invest in Alitalia, because all the women who read this are going to want to go to Italy.”  No one should be surprised if Italy’s tourism board funded this film.

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