Jealous, harried air traffic controller Max Fiedler, recently dumped by his girlfriend, comes into contact with nuclear waste and is granted the power of telekinesis, which he uses not only to win her back, but to gain a little revenge.
Set in 1954, a group of Florida high schoolers seek out to help a buddy lose his virginity, which leads them to seek revenge on a sleazy nightclub owner and his redneck sheriff brother for harassing them.
One man's quiet suburban life takes a sickening lurch for the worse when a young couple move into the deserted house next door. From the word go it is obvious these are not the quiet professional types who *should* be living in such a nice street. As more and more unbelievable events unfold, our hero starts to question his own sanity... and those of his family. Written by
This turd won't send many running to Thomas Berger's rich novel, which is a shame. The book is everything the film failed to be: a scathing satire on moronic American suburban life.
The problem is a director far out of his depth. Though armed with a script largely faithful to its subversive source material, director John Avildsen (Rocky, Karate Kid) is a maker of feel-good entertainment who hasn't a clue how to handle satire or absurdity. It's like asking John Ashcroft to rap.
While Belushi is serviceable and Akroyd is fun, we can only imagine how this last partnership might have turned out in competent hands. They're frequently misdirected by Avildsen who thinks he's doing Reagan-era Abbott and Costello. Painful; read the novel.
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