To begin with: the name "RODANTHE" is icky.

So, my sister and I get a great kick out of going to a theatre to see a movie we know we'll hate, then heckling our way through it, Mystery Science Theater-style.

We're reasonably quiet about it. We do our best not to annoy the other nice fools that wasted their money on terrible movies.

We'll definitely be going to see "Nights in Rodanthe." I'm snickering right now just thinking about the previews. Alonso Duralde over at MSNBC calls it "the world’s longest General Foods International Coffees commercial." I think Alonso and I would get along pretty well.

I used to drink a lot of GFIC - loved the Orange Cappuccino flavor. Made the mistake of buying the sugar-free version once. Tasted like drinking slightly orange-flavored liquid foundation makeup (you know, as I'd imagine foundation to taste, when heated...).

But back to "Rodanthe" (which I keep finding myself pronouncing in my best Julia Childs voice, because the word is so ugly is merits a certain amount of dramatic hyperbole). It's the casting that really sinks the movie's ship (or, if you're a sucker for Nicholas Sparks adaptations, the icing on the "There's always hope and kissing with tongue for middle-aged women in unsatisfying marriages before the credits role" cake). See, I don't think either Richard Gere OR Diane Lane can really carry an entire movie these days - and while Gere did seem to stop aging altogether the second Pretty Woman wrapped, he's on that same fence that Harrison Ford fell off of a few years ago: the "no longer appealing in a romantic leading role" fence. Cast him as the rogish politician, the slightly hunky dad, the rakish boss, but the "best sex of her life" role? Hmmmmm. As "the man that brings out the woman in her," I'm just not really convinced he's still got it.

And, Diane, bless her little mom-jeans-wearing heart, is EITHER the greatest con-artist Hollywood has ever been taken by (because the Movie Powers That Be are still convinced she's redefining acting for her generation, that she's a powerful screen force to be reckoned with, that she's been reborn as the Meryl Streep in Waiting, or - wait for it - that she's a Good Actress) OR, she really has yet to find that "perfect script." Because the long string of movies in which she's cast as an every women, wronged, scorned, and ultimately, strengthened and victorious keep falling flat with me. They're both a little past their prime when it comes to delivering the romantic punch. They don't...smolder anymore. They don't even spark. They play to cliches. And Lane's Mary Lou Retton cum Victoria Beckham bob doesn't do her any sexy favors - it just makes her look...well...old. Which she shouldn't. Because she's not. In fact, I watched that George Clooney eyebrow vehicle "Leatherheads" a while ago and really spend the entire movie thinking there might have been some real chemistry if they'd replaced poochy-lipped Renee Zellweger with Diane Lane.

Then there's the location: stately beach house during a hurricane. No cliche there. Stolen kisses against a backdrop of thunder and lightning: original. Inspiring. Really.

On another level, casting Christopher Meloni as the estranged husband sabotages Richard Gere even further. In fact, I'd probably be rushing to see this movie to oogle Meloni and swoon over the kisses stolen against the thunder and lightning backdrop (receding hairline, golden skin and upper body of steel - Heather's dream man....toss Meloni, Jason Statham, Bruce Willis and...oh, Shia (for a little youth and beauty) into a movie together and I'd watch it, period). Then I'd at least understand the character conflict.

BUT, then, I'm going to see this movie for heckling purposes only. So in that regard, I suppose it's perfectly cast, perfectly set - just flat perfect.