Porter Stoddard is a well-known New York architect who is at a crossroads... a nexus where twists and turns lead to myriad missteps some with his wife Ellie, others with longtime friends ... See full summary »
The US needs to convince the visiting emir Khala'ad of Othar to allow an American military base in his strategic realm. Clueless nightclub waitress Sunny Ann Davis accidentally spots and ... See full summary »
A bank security expert plots with a call girl to rob three safety deposit boxes containing $1.5 million in cash belonging to three very different criminals from a high-tech security bank in Hamburg, Germany.
The annual British Hairdressing Championship comes to Keighley, a town where Phil, and son, Brian, run a barbershop and Phil's ex-wife, Shelly, and her lover, Sandra, run a beauty salon. ... See full summary »
Phoebe and fellow American Julian Peters meet in Rome, find a lost dog, and agree to return it to Monte Carlo to split the five thousand dollar reward. Discovering the dog's owner dead, ... See full summary »
A highly-evolved planet, whose denizens feel no emotion and reproduce by cloning, plans to take over Earth from the inside by sending an operative, fashioned with a humming, mechanical ... See full summary »
Huge egos. Backbiting assistants. Screaming deadlines. Claudia "Claude" Casey has moved up in the secretarial world of television news, from permanent floater to the anchor's desk. It's a ... See full summary »
Porter Stoddard is a well-known New York architect who is at a crossroads... a nexus where twists and turns lead to myriad missteps some with his wife Ellie, others with longtime friends Mona and her husband Griffin. Deciding which direction to take often leads to unexpected encounters with hilarious consequences. Written by
Sarah Lean <Sarah.Lean@talk21.com>
When the Claybournes arrive at the cabin in their Hummer, Mr. Clayboure gets out with his shotgun, walks toward the cabin and shoots the bear suit. When we cut to Mrs. Claybourne's reaction, the shotgun is leaning against the rear tire. See more »
Mother, I think you really have a problem.
You're damned right I have a problem. He won't do it to me anymore. Yes, his limp carrot is the root of all my problems. All my doctors tell me so. Every motherfucking one of them.
Fucking. Going upstairs.
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This thing was beyond crap, and I don't use that word often. I had heard it was bad, so I rented it for dud night, and called my sister to come watch it, because we need to bounce our comments off each other. Well, she left halfway through, vowing to watch Lord of The Rings, to try to cleanse her brain. I'm going to use a toilet brush on mine.
I should have known it wasn't an ordinary bad movie in the first scene. There's Grampa, aka Warren Beatty, sitting in a bed, trying to cover his wrinkled shoulders with the sheet. Talk about stomach-turning. That's the plot in a nutshell, old Warren pretending it's 1966 when swingers like him hopped on the nearest woman as regularly as they hopped on a plane.
Seriously, there is no plot. Every washed-up actor or actress in Hollywood is invited to drop by to make an ass of him (or her) self, including Charleton Heston, who must have already been in the grip of his recently-announced Alzheimer's Disease. I know rents are high in Los Angeles, but how badly do these people need money? And did any of them even get any? This stinker can't have made a nickel.
I can't summarize this mess because there was no rhyme or reason anywhere. I can't describe the wild over-acting, except to call it amateur night. All I can do is recommend that nobody, and I mean nobody, watch this thing. Don't inadvertently let your dog or cat see it. It's so bad you can't even make fun of it. That's how bad it is.
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