Review of The Butcher's Wife

Television director Terry Hughes tried his hand at features with this improbable and uneven modern updating of "Marty", with magical overtones and quirky eccentricities--not the least of which is a miscast Demi Moore as a psychic sprite with absurd golden locks. Moore believes she is fated to marry a lonely but charming butcher (the wonderful George Dzundza, looking a lot more handsome than we're supposed to think he is); after the nuptials however, she begins to have real feelings for another man, yuppie psychiatrist Jeff Daniels. It's this kind of thinking in Hollywood--that a younger, slimmer man would be a better catch for Demi Moore than a balding, chubby guy like George Dzundza--that sinks most romantic comedies, and nearly does this one in as well. Daniels is exasperating while trying to shrink Moore's head, while Dzundza's fire is lighted by local spinster Mary Steenburgen, a closet chanteuse. The film is not the merry romantic mix-up it wants to be, and Demi is too callow to be passed off as this blonde sweetheart (she fails to connect with anyone on-screen, not to mention the audience). Perhaps happily-ever-after stylist Hughes was just the wrong pick as director: he turns a promising scenario into a flat-footed sitcom. ** from ****