Writer/director/producer/star Eric Schaeffer bears the full responsibility for this ego trip, in which he plays a taxi driver who wins the heart of a supermodel. Now, the "average-joe-romances-star" theme has been around nearly as long as Hollywood itself...but what sets this movie apart from others in the same vein (e.g., "Notting Hill") is that Schaeffer's "average joe," cabbie Michael Shivers, is the most relentlessly unappealing romantic lead I can recall ever seeing on screen. From the first minute of the film, where he's needlessly busting the chops of some hapless delivery guy, Michael is immediately unlikeable. More than anything else, Michael resembles Joe Spinell's character (another cab driver) in the B-movie "The Last Horror Film": an unpleasant loser with delusions of grandeur, fixated on a glamorous celebrity. The main difference is that Spinell was able to make you feel just a tiny bit of sympathy for his character, creepy as he was.
Schaeffer would have you believe that Michael wins her over because he's a great romantic (but his extravagant gestures are only laughable), an insightful, moving poet (but his words are over-florid, leaden chunks of purple prose), and a fantastic lover (but Schaeffer's love scenes, especially the first one, more closely resemble rape scenes). That's three strikes, Schaeffer...you're out.
Schaeffer would have you believe that Michael wins her over because he's a great romantic (but his extravagant gestures are only laughable), an insightful, moving poet (but his words are over-florid, leaden chunks of purple prose), and a fantastic lover (but Schaeffer's love scenes, especially the first one, more closely resemble rape scenes). That's three strikes, Schaeffer...you're out.