When I saw the previews for Sweet Home Alabama, I hoped that maybe, just maybe, Hollywood had finally decided to present an image of the South, and particularly of my home state, that would be a bit more accurate than, say, Forrest Gump or Crazy in Alabama. I don't have a lot of faith in the entertainment industry, but I thought, hey, Reese Witherspoon is in it, so it can't be too bad, right?

Wrong.

The plot is basic at best. Melanie Carmichael (Witherspoon) is the poor down-home girl who escapes her trailer trash family to make it in the big city ­ New York City, in this case. Andrew (Patrick Dempsey) is her smooth-talking politician love interest, and Jake (Josh Lucas) is the not-quite-ex-husband she left behind in Alabama. Throw in a catfish festival, the reenactment of a Civil War battle, and the obligatory honky-tonk, and you've got Sweet Home Alabama.

Granted, I went to see the movie with a large group of friends, and mine was the only negative response. Maybe I'm just sensitive because that's supposed to be my state up on the big screen, but I'm sick of the idea that a southern accent equals stupidity. And if you want to hear some really bad southern accents, you need look no further than the opening scene of Sweet Home Alabama. I'm willing to bet that the child actors playing tiny versions of Witherspoon and Lucas in a flashback sequence have never been south of the Mason-Dixon line.

Witherspoon, thanks to her Tennessee roots, acquits herself well in this department. The only other actor in the movie who makes "y'all" sound believable is Seattle native Jean Smart, former Designing Women star and master of the only convincing non-native southern accent I've ever heard.

The most cringe-worthy line in the film is spoken by Fred Ward as Melanie's father. After Melanie punches Andrew's pushy, conniving mother (played by Candice Bergen, who is one of the film's few bright spots), Ward declares, "Praise the Lord, the South has risen!"

This was only one of many moments that made me want to crawl under my seat. The scenario is trite, and the characters ­ all the characters, not just the southern ones ­ are stereotypical. If you don't like the stereotypical "Woman, make me a sandwich" redneck, why not try the stereotypical gay fashion designer, or the standard "all I want is a better life for my daughter" homebody mom?

"You need a passport to come down here," Witherspoon says, and if the actual South resembled the South in Sweet Home Alabama, I'd have to agree.

Regional loyalties aside, the film is both dull and predictable, with a healthy dose of syrupy sweetness tossed in to stick it all together.