I went into “My Super Ex-Girlfriend” cold. By which I mean that I didn’t read anything about the movie in advance, I just based my decision to suggest the film on the basis of a couple of amusing trailers and my liking for the two leads. Also, my friend Tuyen and I were late to Galaxy Cinema last night to the movie, so we didn’t see the opening credits. But it turned out the film was one of those sensible films that since 1977 have ripped off “Star Wars” in just showing the title of the movie first, and all the credits at the end.

Anyway, my point of the preceding paragraph is that last night I had no idea who directed the pic until the closing credits started.

And the first credit was:”Directed by Ivan Reitman”.

And I thought: “Of course! Ivan Reitman!" It made perfect sense.

Ivan Reitman has built a great movie career on directing, and occasionally conceiving, the archetypal light-comedy-with-a-twist, and this twist is often of the supernatural type. He’s most famous for “Ghostbusters”, one of the top-earning films of the eighties, where the supernatural element was the most prominent of any of his films, and yet the success of “Ghostbusters” was less due the sensational SFX, and more due to the dry, absurdist wit surrounding them. It’s a great movie, and Reitman’s most financially successful, and it’s brilliant, exciting and funny and fun. He’s made lots of other light comedies, some with the supernatural twist, some not (Kindergarten Cop) and some with the twist being more UNnatural than supernatural (Twins, Junior). His alumni-cum-protégé Harold Ramis has also enjoyed great success from this wacky yet light genre, must obviously with “Multiplicity” and especially “Groundhog Day” – the latter an absolutely superb message-comedy hanging on a flimsy, inexplicable thread which finds Phil Conners living the same day over and over again.

But the super (or un) natural twists in these films are really just a great way for Reitman/Ramis to present some great, wacky, dry character humour, wrapped up in a gentle, nice messages that are (conversely) very natural.

For example, some Reitman/Ramis themes:

From Ghostbusters: If we are weird, lost and unemployable (or even the token black dude) we can regain our dignity and purpose by pursuing something creative and useful.

From Multiplicity: If our life is full of too many stresses and responsibilities and needs (work, family, personal space), the way to reduce these complications and attain stress-free simplicity is by DOWNsizing out life, not upsizing it (eg: by cloning ourselves).

From Kindergarten Cop: We’ve all got a paternal side, and even the toughest, biggest hardcase can discover this paternal side when thrown in the lion’s den.

From Junior: We’ve all got a maternal side, and even the nerdiest, biggest scientist can discover this maternal side, when…well…when necessary.

From Twins: As different as siblings are, there’s always gonna be a unbreakable, intangible bond within them, as well as an voracious quest to find out where we come from.

From Groundhog Day: The only way to stop every day from seeming exactly the same, is to open our hearts and ourselves to new people, experiences and sensations, and to truly live each day as if it is our last.

And now, from “My Super Ex-Girlfriend”:

…beware of crazy, psychotic ex girlfriends…

Trust me. It’s a pretty damn valid theme too.

Reitman’s latest movie effort is pretty good – it’s not in the league of “Ghostbusters” of course, or Ramis’ “Groundhog Day”, but even sub-lite Reitman is still pretty good. He’s on cruise control here, but then again, his concept this time isn’t as strong as previous efforts. And he does an adequate job, it’s a nice, gentle, light, short comedy with a few laugh-out-loud bits – usually in the spots where Reitman wields his typical absurdist flourishes – like a shark-in-the-bed or a burn-on-the-forehead.

Speaking of burning foreheads, the most intriguing-cum-amusing bits in “My Super Ex-Girlfriend” are scenes which answer the question which has burned comic geeks brains for decades – “What must it be like when “Superman” has sex?”

Well, if his technique is anything like G-Girl’s, the answer is – "pretty damn dangerous!" – whether it’s on a bed sliding across the floor or a flight path sliding across the sky.

Then again, G-Girl is nothing like Superman. He’s a gentle soul in a super-strong body – good combination. But she’s a neurotic, insecure, defensive soul in a super-strong body – bad combination.

Speaking of super bodies, G-Girl is played perfectly by Uma Thurman – one of the leggiest, limberest A-list stars working in Hollywood today. She still moves here as fluidly and sexily as she did in “Pulp Fiction” or “Kill Bill”, and this film taps her comic potential as well as any before – although at times her switch between G-Girl and her Clark Kent-style alter ego seems exactly like her switch between Poison Ivy and HER mild alter-ego in “Batman and Robin”, years ago. But she’s well cast, and while she could never be described as traditionally beautiful, she’s super-supple and super-stylish, and, as always, makes one wonder: “What the hell was Ethan Hawke thinking?”

Thurman’s co-star in this film is also well cast - the lesser known Wilson brother – Luke. While far from leading man handsome, Wilson is excellent at playing the sympathetic “everyman” we all can relate to – the normal man caught up in an abnormal situation and flailing around lost, like we would. For another example, see maybe his best film: “Old School” (which I vaguely think is also produced by Reitman). Wilson is great at the shocked-yet-still-deadpan-dry-drawling reaction, and he’s certainly asked to tap into that trademark drawl a lot here.

Otherwise the casting is good, with Anna Faris fine as the perky “normal” girl Wilson ultimately realises is a much more compatible for him than G-Girl. Eddie Izzard is great as the urbane uber-villain, until he’s required to play romantic with Thurman…and believing a short, fat, fey (ok: blatantly GAY) bloke could be paired with a statuesque goddess requires more suspension of disbelief than being asking to believe a shark could actually travel through every room of a fifth-story Manhattan apartment building that isn’t flooded.

Another quibble is the final reel turnabout G-Girl does in seconds from a crazed, jealous rampaging murderess to a rational, understanding, touchy feely soul. The “I’m OK, You’re OK” ending doesn’t have much bite or darkness – or rationality – but nevertheless, one of the themes of this film is based on the irrational mood swings of the female species, and how men must learn to accept them, so I guess it gets away with it.

Anyway, these are minor foibles. The film doesn’t purport to be much, so it doesn’t disappoint. I enjoyed it, in a non-demanding way.

It’s very, very silly – but then again, it’s meant to be.

On the other hand, like with most Reitman films, there’s a theme there that we can all relate to. Well, most of us. Certainly me.

Wilson plays a lonely guy who becomes attached to a girl in whom he sees a little bit of himself. I can relate.

This guy discovers that – over a short period of time – the girl he had maybe hoped for big things with – is not for him. I can relate.

He soon discovers she is three things. Needy, jealous, and controlling.  I repeat: needy, jealous and controlling. I can relate.

Obviously G-Girl’s neurotic side in this pic is played for laughs. But the needy, jealous, and controlling girlfriend (or, ok – sometimes boyfriend) is part of our society in a big way. I’ve been fortunate enough to have rarely experienced it, in fact, with the only two girls I would really define as my “girlfriends” in life, I was incredibly lucky. But, I certainly heard from other guys, and the occasional girl, that such emotional aberrations did exist.

I was fortunate enough to never encounter them in any relationship, serious or casual. Until Vietnam. I’ve realised now that in relationships in Vietnam, perhaps in all of East Asia, that being needy, jealous and controlling is often not looked upon as a being bad, unhealthy, unproductive thing. In fact lots of people tell me that behaviour like this is GOOD, because if the jealous, controlling person acts so extremely, it simply proves that they must LOVE the other person so extremely. My God! How deluded can these people be? True, the traditional society over here is based on relationships built on survival, not love, and thus a lack of respect and cheating by the men has been accepted and expected for generations. But to actually be naïve enough to expect that outrageous jealousy and attempts to control another’s life are GOOD things???...well, maybe the Vietnamese audience I saw “My Super Ex-Girlfriend” with actually didn’t think G-girl’s behaviour – or at least the intensity of her emotions and neuroses – was that extreme. Maybe the extremity of it was lost on them.

But it wasn’t lost on me. Coming from a society which generally believes that TRUST is necessary in a healthy relationship, and that any form of jealousy and emotional control is bad – I could sorta see why Wilson’s character was freaked out.

Wilson’s character really didn’t know G-Girl for too long before she started getting needy, jealous, and controlling. I can relate (two weeks).

He was so physically attracted to her charms that he was – for a little while – oblivious to her potential to turn into Glenn Close from “Fatal Attraction”. I can relate.

He started to experience irrational demands about who he could see in his own time (no one female) and that he should see his supposed new girlfriend as much as possible (reducing his “own time” vastly). I can relate.

In fact – while I’ve never had a shark thrown into my bed – I’ve experienced my fair share of pre-and-post-break-up craziness.

I had 70 missed calls over a two-day period, and dozens of text messages. I’ve had phone calls which alternate between rage and sweetness, between acceptance and begging, between calm and calamity.

I’ve had someone stalk me, staking out my house from midday, insisting that they would wait on the doorstep for me – well, in the filthy alleyway – until midnight, waiting for me as long as it took, no matter what time I got home.

I’ve had stuff happen that has made me realise that getting “DICK” scorched into my forehead or a shark thrown into my bed isn’t really that extreme, or unwarranted in jealous-female eyes, at all.

But then again, I’ve never joined the mile-high club sans aeroplane. Yet...