Heartbreakers (2001)

Heartbreakers is the kind of glossy, mischievous caper that knows exactly what it is: a romantic crime comedy powered less by the con than by the charisma. Sigourney Weaver and Jennifer Love Hewitt click as a mother-daughter duo with razor timing and just enough warmth beneath the scheming to keep you rooting for them, while the Palm Beach setting and David Mirkin’s buoyant pacing give the whole thing an easy, escapist sparkle. It’s playful, a little naughty in a PG-13 way, and consistently funny, especially when the grift starts bumping up against inconvenient real feelings. If you’re allergic to comedies where love and manipulation share the same dance floor, it may not be your flavor—but if you want a spirited, star-driven romp, this one goes down smooth.

Heartbreakers wants to be a slick, sexy con-comedy with a mother-daughter duo running elegant scams and trading barbs, and you can see the appeal on paper. The problem is the pacing drags and the writing leans on contrivances, so what should feel like a clever caper often plays more like a noisy, drawn-out farce. It also asks you to root for characters who spend most of the runtime manipulating everyone in sight, and if you need someone likable to latch onto, this can feel a bit ugly rather than fun. Still, Sigourney Weaver commits hard and there are a few genuinely amusing moments, but if you’re expecting a sharp, romantic crime romp, you may find it more exhausting than charming.