How do you make a movie about a young man who's so uptight around women that he won't even be alone in a room with one - and NOT make him come across as some sort of serial-killer-in-training? I don't know the answer to that question, and, apparently, neither do the people who made "Old Fashioned," a snail-paced, poorly acted, Hallmark Channel-level romantic drama that, intentionally or not, turns out to be an off-putting creep-fest.
Clay Walsh (Rik Swartzwelder, who also wrote and directed the film) is the moody antique shop owner who was once a lady-killer and frat boy in his youth, but who now spends most of his time over-thinking his life to the point where just about everyone around him - the audience included - has had it up to here with his borderline- psychotic sanctimoniousness. All, except Amber (Elizabeth Ann Roberts), that is, an attractive young woman who settles into this small Midwestern town with her cat and her dreams after her car runs out of gas there. Though she's supposedly out of money, we never see Amber actually looking for work since she's so busy trying to figure out what makes Clay tick - a full time job, in and of itself, apparently. Initially intrigued by this strange man with unorthodox ideas about love, sex and dating, Amber begins to see him less as a curiosity and more as a man of principle and honor the better she gets to know him (too bad the viewer never really comes to share that opinion of him).
About the best thing one can say about "Old Fashioned" is that its heart is in the right place and one feels almost guilty criticizing it, but, frankly, the movie is so slow-moving and talky that I could barely stay awake through large stretches of it (though there is one surprisingly thoughtful and effective scene involving a bachelor party, I will admit). Surely, there's got to be a better way of getting across the old I'm-saving-myself-for-marriage theme than this. For the problem is that, after being told what a fun, lively, energetic guy Clay was in college, then seeing what he's become now, the only conclusion we can come to is that Finding Jesus turned him into the Bore of the Century - or, at the very least, the ultimate wet-blanket, bringing down everybody's spirits along with his own. Somehow, I doubt that's what Mr. Swartzwelder had in mind when embarking on the project.
