You know you’re in for a real treat when the opening credits begin and the first words you notice are “Starring Nicki Minaj”.
This’ll be good. Nicki Minaj. She’s a thing, isn’t she? What’s the worst that could happen?
The Other Woman is the worst thing that could happen and boy, doesn’t it just happen.
Carly (Cameron Diaz) is dating Mark (Some Guy). All is going well. Mark is great. Just like Cameron herself, Carly is loving being relevant. Carly is a lawyer and judging by her corner office, she’s a good one. Nicki Minaj is her personal assistant, which, on reflection, is spectacularly unnecessary. Smiles all round. The end.
Or is it? Nope. Unfortunately not.
Mark is married. He’s married to Kate (Leslie Mann), the lovely, albeit ditsy, housewife. The extramarital lies unravel when Carly turns up to Mark’s house and is greeted by Kate. Kate has a meltdown. Mark is oblivious to the whole thing. Hold on to your headwear.
After some crying and a few jokes, Carly and Kate team up with the aim of making Mark pay, both emotionally and financially. Along the way, the unlikely friends discover and befriend another of Mark’s side projects, Amber (Kate Upton), the young, beautiful and possibly mentally undercooked model.
I won’t ruin what happens next because, fuck, you better rush out and see it.
There are a lot of questions thrown up by The Other Woman. Has Hollywood hit rock bottom? What is Nicki Minaj and how do we stop it? Whose turn is it to milk Kate Upton?
As we all are (with the exception of Keanu Reeves), Cameron Diaz is aging. Her looks are fading. Like a ski resort in summer, you can kind of make out what was there before it all melted away, but it takes a fair amount of imagination.
Leslie Mann as Kate is perhaps the sole shining light in an otherwise neighbourhood-wide blackout. She’s legitimately funny and somehow allows you to forgive the inclusion of pretty much everyone else in the movie.
In short, The Other Woman is like being hungover at work. In the beginning, you think to yourself, “This will be fine. I’ll get through this”, but after an hour, you want to kill yourself.
Boom, badoom, boom-boom, badoom, boom-boom.