Oh, where to start...imagine all the intellectual depth of Showgirls, plus all the excessive and ridiculous special effects of Charlie's Angels, and then throw in some dialog crafted by whomever wrote for Governor Schwarzenegger's Mr. Freeze in the fourth Batman movie, and only then are you even close to a movie as awful as this.
I suppose one should not expect much from a director who actually refers to himself as Pitof. But let's come back to that. Let's move on to Halle Berry. Note to Halle Berry: Letting Billy Bob Thornton ream you endlessly on camera is certainly degrading, but it was also a good career move--and you won an Oscar; feverishly eating catnip and licking people's faces on camera, however, is not a good career move--and you'll probably win a Razzie this time. They make you return Oscars for movies like this. Oh yeah, as for the supernatural explanation for Patience Phillips/Catwoman's superhero status--she gets CPR from an immortal Egyptian cat--I am not kidding.
And then there is Benjamin Bratt, who happens to be a pretty solid actor, but could have very likely damaged a good career. If his participation in this movie isn't enough to stigmatize him, then I'm sure he had to pass up a lot of good roles because of all the time he spent having his foot surgically removed from his former agent's rectum. There is a scene in this movie--probably the worst, and that's no small achievement--that is reminiscent of that ridiculous scene in Daredevil where Jennifer Garner/Elektra and Ben Affleck/blind superhero have a Kung Fu fight at a playground in broad daylight; in this movie it's Halle Berry and Ben Bratt playing one-on-one hoops and her doing Catwoman flips and yet no one appears to be too amazed by this, much less pants-soiling surprised, and on top of that it has a sort of VH1/Color Me Bad/early New Edition video feel to it. And I'm really not sure what city this is all supposed to take place in--Gotham, Metropolis, the land beneath the whole in the cutting room floor--but apparently this place only has one detective, the unfortunate Bratt. No matter what the crime is--burglary, murder, domestic disturbance, interrupted ballet performance--he's always there.
As for the rest of the cast, that annoying woman from Mad TV--I know that's not specific enough; I mean the most annoying one who plays what I guess is supposed to be some bizarre Asian lady--well, she plays Catwoman's annoying and sort of slutty co-worker comic relief since Rosie O'Donnell was apparently unavailable.
And then we come to Sharon Stone. Now I know her career is going down the crapper with all deliberate speed, but it's still hard to understand this one. The only thing I can guess is that the opportunity to break into silly, pseudo-feminist diatribes made this a role she couldn't turn down. Of course Sharon has often lamented the lack of good roles for older women in Hollywood, and she's absolutely right about that, but this is not the best way to lodge a complaint, and plus that's always been a little peculiar coming from an actress whose greatest cinematic achievement is the conspicuous exposure of her labia.
Briefly back to this Pitof character--I thought that pretentious one-named idiot who did the Charlie's Angels movies--McG, I believe--was bad enough, but this guy is even more shameless and obviously lacking in talent. What's with these guys who've never made a movie and are already going by only one name? Don't you have to work up to that? I mean if is Scorsese wants to go by Marty, fine; if Tarantino wants to be just Quentin, or even just Q, whatever, but where does a hack like this get off using one name? This movie deserves every Razzie it receives, and while some reviewers may say it's not really that bad, remember, it took a lot of money to make this godawful thing, and if people don't speak out about how dreadful it really is, they just might make Catwoman 2. Can you live with that?
