A stain on Timothee Chalamet’s career. I don’t understand why everyone tries to recreate Gene Wilder’s magic—there’s just no way to do it without coming off as hackneyed and overzealous. Me and some mean gays behind me were cackling for the middle third because it was so bad, but by act 3, we were just tired and disappointed that wasted over 2 hours of our life on this chocolate-dipped garbage. It felt like Hugh Grant was in an entirely different…
