Gwyneth Paltrow as trailer trash: not convincing. Mike Myers as a boss-eyed airline staff trainer: not funny. Christina Applegate as a bitchy best friend: not original. But let's not rush to blame the actors too hastily for this mediocre effort.
The plot and characterisation are as skimpy as the omnipresent mini-skirts and, for a comedy, the script simply doesn't get off the runway. Supposedly hilarious scenarios are handled with all the panache and timing of a particularly poor 1970s sitcom.
The obsession with breasts (the cinematographer and costume designer apparently either in collusion or under orders here) may go some way to compensating male viewers for their time, and young women may find glimpses of pleasure in the early scenes of liberation. But its conclusion is so tepid, its journey so half-hearted and its look so uncommonly dated that this is unlikely to feel worth the ride.