With every possible cliché gathered, Lloyd's aberration of cinema glorifes the tourist gaze and creates a mockery of people, place and sexuality, all subsumed under a cinematic monstrosity that serves the, admittedly, attractive and influential ABBA repertory. It is not only the total lack of script that annoys most but, rather, -with the exception of one or two choreos at the pier- the film's colonizing vulgarity.
RE-RATING from 1 star to 3 stars: This movie grew on me when I watched it again on tv last week. No one can stop me now and no one can certainly tell that I am not happy now, cause I am. Fav guilty pleasure.
Unwatchable garbage. Never have so many over-qualified actors worked so strenuously to pretend that they're having so much FUN. Appalling in every way, even the usually reliable Julie Walters can't make this endurable.
Amanda Seyfried seems really fine with the fact that her mom used to sleep around. It is one big joke, but not as bad as James Bond singing. If you ever wanted to give me the Ludovico technique from A Clockwork Orange, this movie would be the worst, most inhumane torture ever.