‘Ghosts of Girlfriends Past’ makes you want to run away

His character in “Ghosts of Girlfriends Past,” that of Connor Mead, proclaims that he loves all women -- perhaps he believes he loves them since they seem to reflect his abundant narcissism.

So yes, as you might guess from the title, the film is a modern reworking of “A Christmas Carol,” and Connor is the kind of scrooge who has lost all faith in serious relationships and freely announces that romantic love is comfort for the weak. Naturally, there are people in the world who will share his reservations; only their circumstances are surely a lot more miserable, and thus their remorse a lot more justifiable. Now, Mead leads his glamorous existence as a hot shot New York photographer who's got everything: talent, money, fame, women -- you know the life of the perpetual party. Oh those poor lost souls always have everything, don't they, and we're supposed to feel even sorrier for them because they just can't comprehend that they don't have the most important thing of all. Puh-lease. And on a side note, why is it mostly the directors or photographers in movies who relish in that tempting nihilistic deprivation? Aren't there any happy-go-lucky artists out there?

Mead's little brother Paul (Breckin Mayer) is getting married over the weekend in their deceased uncle's Massachusetts mansion, which looks like it was transplanted right out the colossal mountains of Bavaria. Mead cannot possibly fathom why his little brother has chosen the life of nuptial imprisonment and consequently makes it his mission to ruin the reception festivities. Meanwhile, of course, all the bridesmaids have heard of his legendary performance in bed sports and want a piece of him. It is outrageous how 90 percent of the women in this film are more than willing to throw themselves into this man's slimy clasp. In the beginning of the film, we watch Mead breaking up with three women over a conference call -- all of them desperately aching to retrieve him. Does Hollywood feel it necessary to degrade women this much and portray them as creatures that think so lowly of themselves?

Oh, but like most of the moralistic destinies of lost souls, Mead will be salvaged. He is visited by the ghost of his revered Uncle Wayne (a rather befitting Michael Douglas), a man who was once the smoothest rascal roaming the northeast coast and who tells him that the party life must end and Mead must settle down so he'll have more than one person attending his funeral. The past, present and future ghosts of his girlfriends will take him through an introspective journey regarding his relations with women. Sure enough, there is one woman -- the maid-of-honor Jenny Perotti (Jennifer Garner, who should be upgraded to more versatile roles), who was Mead's first girlfriend and possibly the only woman he managed to feel something for. You don't have to be a quantum physicist to assume the remainder of this alleged romantic yarn of male reformation.

“Ghosts of Girlfriends Past” does gather a handful of laughs from its audience, but none of them involve the scenes lead by McConaughey. It is the cheeky charms of old man Douglas and the spunky vivacity of Emma Stone (girlfriend past) and Noureen Dewoolf (girlfriend present and also Mead's assistant) who muster up a couple of decent chuckles -- all involving the debasement of Mead's deeds. This film could have been a hilarious piece of comedy (perhaps if someone as talented as Peter Sellers was the lead, or anyone who has a bright spark in his eyes and a mischievous grin without the self-acknowledgement) but the dry and colorless aura of Mr. M makes you want to run as far away as possible and hope that you'll never have to meet such a misogynistic wolf who no doubt believes he is a gift to all women. In this case, the worst possible conviction that any woman can have is that “he has some goodness inside and he can change.” Spare us.