From Hawks to Ephron, the genre’s greats rooted their conflicts in differences of class or culture, a link to reality balancing out the glamour which Parker demonstrates no interest in pursuing.
Ticket to Paradise is more staycation than vacation, and as such it is equally as memorable.
You could feed a bot a steady diet of ’90s entries in this genre and it would spit out something approximating Ticket to Paradise. 
George and Julia spark and sparkle, which is what the trailers promise, and it’s what the movie delivers.
If Ticket to Paradise had been all about the two stars, it would have been fine, but it’s not and therein lies the problem.
Instead of delivering either madcap screwball fun or a relaxed hangout vibe, Ticket to Paradise mostly just feels inert, as if everyone involved assumed that once they had Clooney and Roberts onboard the rest of the movie would take care of itself. 
The execution of all the genre's conventions manages to be wonderfully gratifying.
This just isn't very funny. There are not enough laughs.