Picking Up the Pieces

I watched this movie on Cinemax in stunned silence. It contains some of the most sophomoric writing and cheapest sight gags one can imagine outside of a frat-house revue. Throughout the film, both Woody Allen and Sharon Stone keep fixed and glazed grins on their faces, as if they can hardly believe they're saying these horrible lines. That this cast and this director would produce this travesty passes all understanding.

The problem isn't the subject matter (hey, I'm all for irreverent treatment of organized religion!), it's that the plotting and the execution leave you wishing you'd spent the last two hours jabbing straight pins into the back of your hand. Or, perhaps, your eyes.

It is a film without charm, without wit, without subtlety, without surprise. Your move.