Chick flicks are in trouble, according to The New York Times. Recent additions to the "romcom" market — 27 Dresses, The Holiday, PS, I Love You — have proved to be shit compared to the bad bitches of the 90s like Sleepless in Seattle and Notting Hill, so Hollywood's out to save the genre! How? By casting cute women in funny/awkward/romantic situations to which men can also relate.

For instance, the upcoming Isla Fisher vehicle, Confessions of a Shopaholic, sure sounds like a chick flick (that title!), but producer Jerry Bruckheimer swears it's totally not: "We all have spending habits, a lot of us do." Good point: idiotic conspicuous consumption is genderless.

And what about Julie & Julia, the seemingly estrogen-spiked cryfest described thusly: " … a complex exercise … based on both the life of the cooking enthusiast Julia Child and the 2005 book of the same title by Julie Powell, who, stuck in place as an office temp as she approached 30, spent a year whipping up every recipe in Ms. Child’s 'Mastering the Art of French Cooking.'" Strictly for the ladies, right? Wrong! Says one of the film's producers: "We hope this will be a movie for everyone who likes eating." That means the models will absolutely hate it, but they hate everything, so you can't listen to them. Men love to eat, and so do many women. Winner!

Chill, Times, the chick flicks are gonna be fine. Now run along and fill another page with obvious drivel marketed as analysis.