Best I can tell – and this is based solely on events witnessed at the screening I attended – you should enjoy The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood if you are old and you have a vagina (though one could make a point that people from the South and those who wear big, floppy hats might also be in this film's target demographic).  I am not old, nor do I have a vagina.  I live north of the Mason-Dixon line and do not own any floppy hats.  So I, for the life of me, can't figure out why anyone liked this film.

Based on the Rebecca Wells novels Little Altars Everywhere and the titular The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, this big-screen adaptation flows like a bottle of frozen ketchup, bogged down by constant time changes that leave the film with no center.  It's the kind of thing one would expect from a novice director, and that's just what we have in Callie Khouri, the Oscar-winning screenwriter of the you-go-girl Thelma & Louise (as well as the you-stay-home-girl Something to Talk About).

Sisterhood takes place in three distinct periods.  In the present day, Sandra Bullock (Murder 8y Num8ers) plays Siddalee Walker (easily the most irritating Southern moniker since Natalie Portman's Novalee Nation in Where the Heart Is), a playwright whose latest offering is about to hit Broadway.  In an interview with Time Magazine (which is owned by the same company that produced this film), Siddalee's words about her childhood are twisted a bit to make it sound like her mother did a bad job raising her. This sends mom Vivi (Ellen Burstyn, Requiem For a Dream) off the deep end and results in her refusing to attend her daughter's upcoming nuptials to a Scotsman played by Angus MacFadyen (Titus).

Vivi's three close friends, who refer to themselves as the Ya-Yas (they're played by The Others' Fionnula Flanagan, Gosford Park's Maggie Smith and Angel Eyes' Shirley Knight), fly to New York, slip Siddalee a mickey and drag her back down to Louisiana, where they plan on telling her why her mom is such a head case.  Sisterhood carelessly jumps from this present-day thread to the '60s (when Siddalee was a kid and High Crimes' Ashley Judd plays Vivi) to the '30s (when the Ya-Yas were children).  Needless to say, she learns some startling things about Vivi that ultimately repair their messed-up relationship.

Now, is it just me, or did they get this same bunch of old bags together a few years ago for The Cemetery Club?  Or does this bunch of old bags just resemble that bunch of old bags?  Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying all old bags look the same, but it sure would have been nice if they found some old bags who were actually from the South to join the Ya-Ya sorority.  Knight, a Kansas native, is as close as you get.  Burstyn is from Detroit, while Flanagan and Smith both hail from the British Isles (Brenda Blethyn was originally tapped for Flanagan's role, too!).  It's becoming clearer and clearer that when Hollywood wants real acting and not just a pretty face, they cast Brits, but it just doesn't work here.  None of these actresses can muster up the charm and grace of a real Southerner.  Where the hell is Kathy Bates when you need her?

There's plenty more to complain about, starting with Sisterhood's complete lack of a sympathetic character.  Everyone, especially Siddalee and Vivi, are stubborn, self-centered, unlikable and, for the most part, abusive and alcoholic, while the film's two male characters (MacFadyen and Space Cowboys' James Garner) may as well have been cardboard cutouts.  The film's humor is base and juvenile (complete with shit and puke jokes), and appeals to the lowest common denominator as much as, say, Sorority Boys did. Aside from two or three funny bits, the only other thing worth mentioning is the music, highlighted by T-Bone Burnett's (O Brother, Where Out Thou?) score, a live performance from Taj Mahal and a Bob Dylan song written specifically for Sisterhood.  I'd get the soundtrack if it wouldn't remind me of the film.

1:57 –

for mature thematic elements, language, and brief sensuality