So good romantic movies, like Say Anything or The Graduate, have one scene with a signature hyperbolically romantic guesture, like Lloyd Dobbler with his boombox or Benjamin Braddock running, running through the streets to reach Elaine Robinson. In the theory that more is more, Love Actually gets rid of as many plot elements as possible to provide the viewer with a series of one hyperbolic romantic guesture after another, from the band-hidden-in-the-church-during-the-wedding scene to the jumping-in-the-lake scene to the standing-up-to-the-President-of-the-United-States-because-of-love scene to the silent-expression-of-love-written-on-cuecards scene to the running-through-the-airport-evading-security scene to the knocking-on-every-door-on-the-black scene to marching-through-town-to-propose-with-the-entire-population-watching scene to well, you get the picture. Each scene of course is scored with a hip-to-ironic-to-cheesy pop tune or to surf-swelling strings in case you didn't get the picture. There is much dancing to said music, because when people are happy and in love, they dance. Even at funerals they have to cry to cheesy pop tunes, because that's what people do. At least British people, I guess.

Two of the stories (out of what? 17?) are enjoyable--the body doubles making a softcore film who fall in love and the asshole ex-junkie rock star whose only friend is his manager, but even those expose the disconnect with real emotions and stories the writer-director suffers, with their reek of parodic desperation (look how ironic! they're naked and simulating sex but are shy! the rocker is outrageous and hates the crap he's doing and is loved because of his frankness!).

It is well acted and thoroughly enjoyable as an exercise in packing the scenes in.