Reviews provided by RottenTomatoes
Despite its dramatic pretenses and far racier sex scenes than the typical studio romance, the movie is as predictable and ultimately as sappy as any other run-of-the-mill Hollywood love story.
Jake Gyllenhaal is great in Love & Other Drugs. So is Anne Hathaway. Too bad the movie's a mess.
The only thing to dislike about 'Love and Other Drugs' is how clearly, and desperately, it wants to be liked.
New York Times:
Unfortunately the effects of the movie, therapeutic and intoxicating though they are, wear off before it is over.
"Love and Other Drugs" fits no convenient category, which I guess is a plus, but it leaves you not knowing what to think, so muddled is its mood.
Love And Other Drugs gets wound up in a fascinating tangle of ill-advised romance and even more ill-advised pill-pushing gamesmanship. It's the untangling that's the problem.
Gyllenhaal and Hathaway, who played a couple in "Brokeback Mountain," have a natural, likable chemistry. At least when it's allowed to shine.
J. R. Jones,
Eight months after health-care reform was signed into law, Universal Pictures courageously weighs in with a watered-down satire of the pharmaceutical industry.
I wish director and co-writer Edward Zwick's film had the guts to treat Love & Other Drugs like a grown-up relationship story, rather than a relationship story periodically shoved aside by a lame and lamely raunchy romantic comedy for dummies.
But in Love & Other Drugs, [Zwick] and Herskovitz find a groove that delivers wry writing and smart cultural observation.
At just about the time Hathaway drops her garments, the movie begins to lose focus, unsure of what really matters to the filmmakers.
In the end, this is a smart movie that could have been smarter. The script feels like it was a draft or so away from total clarity and focus. But the energy of the cast and a dive into an unfamiliar world make the movie rather addictive.
Los Angeles Times:
Finally, after years of suffering through Hollywood's predictable pap, sentimental mush, boring bromances and mean girl cliches, comes a love story that is actually worth falling for...
An unfunny sex farce and a relationship study without a shred of genuine human behavior.
Love and Other Drugs doesn't quite avoid the pitfalls of its genre, but at least the movie has the decency to make you laugh on its way to a foregone conclusion. Also, did I mention the sex?
As many weak spots, but what it delivers at its core is as indelible as (and a lot more explicit than) the work of such legendary teams as Clark Gable and Joan Crawford, Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn.
What you're chiefly left with at the end -- despite two fine performances -- is a mild case of emotional whiplash no magic pill is going to cure.
New York Daily News:
A polished romantic dramedy that won't change your life but might make you a little happier for a couple of hours.
New York Post:
100 minutes of bitterness and raunch followed by a few minutes of honeyed niceness is a formula for self-negation.
Zwick and his cowriters (Marshall Herskovitz and Charles Randolph) are constantly letting Gyllenhaal and Hathaway down.
Love and Other Drugs may be the most honest romance to grace the screens during all of 2010.
The more weight the story of Maggie and Jamie takes on, the more distracting is the screenplay's need to intercut updates on the pharmaceutical wars.
This movie is best treated like dim sum. Wait out the bad portions until a tastier dish is served. Let Hathaway be your guide.
"Love and Other Drugs" is quite a mishmash of competing flavors. I mean that almost entirely in a good way.
San Francisco Chronicle:
Love becomes, for two people, the great challenge and the great educator, and at every step of this beautiful film, we believe it.
Careening from bathos to bromance to naked sexytime, the movie is like a mashup of three or four different movies, at least two of them fairly unpleasant.
[Zwick] doesn't direct many rom-coms, and with Love & Other Drugs, you can see why.
Mary F. Pols,
While Hathaway and Gyllenhaal have good chemistry, and director Edward Zwick moves the narrative along nicely, the film is too self-satisfied to be genuinely touching.
Ultimately, the unsettled tone undermines the romantic conclusion. Still, you've got to admire the ambition it shares with its cocky hero.
Zwick's Once and Again and thirtysomething portrayed emotion more honestly than many TV shows of their time. But in Love and Other Drugs, he unevenly weds the satirical and the sentimental.
Snappy, saucy and, like any overzealous product-pusher, rather too eager to please.
The most egregious four-quadrant pander-party of the year, Ed Zwick's latest middlebrow atrocity has been so carefully market-tested that it needn't even be seen, just administered directly into the bloody mainstream.
Too often the moral of this story seems to be "Love means never having to say you."