The most indelible image of female strength in this schmaltzy tale of empowerment is, sadly, Holly Hunter's distractingly buff biceps. Indeed, screenwriter Richard LaGravenese (The Bridges of Madison County, Beloved) makes his directorial debut with this pseudo-feminist romantic comedy about a lonely, neurotic Fifth Avenue divorcée named Judith (Hunter) who recharges her life. Tentative yet determined, she reaches out to a smoky chanteuse (a radiant Queen Latifah) and a homunculus elevator operator (Danny DeVito), who, uh, goes down hard for her.

Loosely based on two Chekhov short stories, the film is a cavalcade of hackneyed "hear-me-roar" moments. In one of the Ally McBeal-esque fantasy scenes, Judith -- literally! -- locates her inner child in a lesbian dance club. DeVito gets to deliver the requisite "Men are pricks" line, and, yes, Judith acts out in all sorts of "empowered" ways. She gets blotto! She pays for sex! She throws muffins! Alas, with clichés like these, it's not long before Living Out Loud induces laughing out loud.