Okay, here's the deal. I fell in love a few years back. No big deal, I know. Okay, okay, so I fall in love every day for at least eleven minutes. But if it lasts longer than an hour or three, I generally marry the girl, and we live happily ever after for a week or four. Then we hire guys in ties and I hide the videos and Orson over at my folk's house, and start deciding which furniture I don't mind partin' with.

But, this relationship was different. This girl was lovely, absolutely radiant. She had a troubled childhood, and was employed in a less than reputable profession, but, she still found a way to be innocent and happy about life. She was working the streets 'cause she didn't know what else to do.

And, just my dark luck, she had to go and get a heartwash over Richard Gere. Just 'cause he squinted a bit and climbed some stupid fire escape. Cripes....

Julia Roberts had grabbed my attention a time or two before. Her appearance in Mystic Pizza was a sparkling debut, her appearance in the Justine Bateman romp Satisfaction lessened the stench from that barf bag, and her Steel Magnolias stint was a definite starmaker. But, when she appeared in Pretty Woman, she stole the hearts of America. Men drooled over her, and women loved her despite her "occupation."

Then, the superstar power train took over, and she started "trying new things." And, she was good in them. Not great, but good.

Then the door slammed. Apparently, Julia aimed to be an artist instead of a star. Or at least that's where her advisors steered her. And, what do we get for those efforts? A steady string of failures dating from The Pelican Brief, her last bonafide hit. She stuck her big toe into the waters of disaster with Ready to Wear, put in both feet with I Love Trouble, eased in up to the waist with Michael Collins, and then plunged headfirst into the deep end with a loud sucking splash in last year's huge flop, Mary Reilly. Did anyone, man or woman, really want to see Julia Roberts speaking with some horrid dialect and dressed in the stodgiest clothing available? Hell, no, we won't go! We want to hear that tickly laugh, feel that cascading red hair, and get bathed in the bright light of her 300-watt smile. (Please pass the oxygen.)

And, thankfully, my dear patients, Princess Julia has returned to the kingdom that crowned her. Her new film, My Best Friend's Wedding, is an almost perfect gem in what has turned out to be a mediocre treasure chest of summer movie offerings.

Roberts plays a New York dining critic named Julianne, who's just found out that her lifelong friend and old boyfriend (Dermot Mulroney) is getting married. And, like some beautiful bird of prey, she swoops down on the pre-wedding plans with one thought in mind: break the wedding up and steal her old boyfriend back. And we immediately form the question that her editor (played to the hilt by Rupert Everett) asks her for us all: "Do you really love him, or is this just about winning?"

If you've seen the trailer for this movie over the past few months, you could easily group this thing into a "romantic screwball comedy" frame of mind, and, granted, you wouldn't be too far off the mark. But this film is more than that. This film is one of the few that follows a standard plot, but still has the courage to take some chances. Screenwriter Ron Bass hits the ground scrambling, and the movie is zoomin' within minutes. He gives us a heroine that, without telling any secrets, does some pretty dirty things to try to get her man back. It'd be easy to lose sympathy for Julianne and call her something that rhymes with Mitch.

But, see, that's where Julia Roberts comes in. She keeps her character bright and simple, and this vulnerability keeps the focus in her favor. Sure, she wants to break up a wedding and hurt a lot of people in the process. We hate what she's doing, but we're rootin' for her all the way. Julia certainly looks like she's all cozy in this role, and I hope she stays on this track for a while.

Giving credit where it's due, she doesn't hold this movie by herself. Dermot Mulroney, seen supporting in Copycat and The Trigger Effect, finally gets a leading man part, and he shows that it suits him nicely, thank you. He's got a shyboy way that could spell good things for him. Maybe soon we won't keep getting him mixed up with Dylan McDermott. And, my, my, my, Cameron Diaz. She gets the booster shot in this thing by getting to be the bad guy and the good guy all at the same time. As Kimmy, the bride-to-be, she's stealing the leading man, and she's surviving attack after attack from her opponent, Julianne. Her Kimmy is loopy as a silly straw, but she's also as likable as any foe could be.

And, for those who love to see fresh produce roll in on the truck, watch Rupert Everett squeeze his part for every ounce of juice. His work as George, Julianne's editor, is an audition reel for any director that needs an actor with impeccable timing, good looks, and the wise sense to throttle down for effect.

Director P.J. Hogan (Muriel's Wedding) has shot something that people have been aiming at for years. He made a modern-day comedy that would have fit perfectly in Frank Capra's or Preston Sturge's filmography. Hold on there, MBFW ain't perfect; there are some jokes that fall flat and a few scenes that trip the pacing, but, for once, I can gladly say, "Who cares?" Overall this is one entertaining flick. In the age of blockbusteritis, this is a wonderful alternative to the shoot-em-ups and alien hunts.

Toss down some flower petals, let the trumpets sound. Lovely Julia is back in town, and her film may just be the wedding gift of the summer. And you know, it just occurred to me, Ms. Roberts is single again... I'm single again... How 'bout a sequel: My Doctor's Wedding? I love the sound of that.