In 55 years of conscientious movie watching, this is probably the worst film I've ever seen.
At this writing, there are 21 votes on IMDb for this film, with an average vote of 8.7 out of 10. It occurs to me that those 21 people in all likelihood made this movie themselves. That is the only reason I can conjure up for the positive rating. I spent much of my life as a film critic, seeing movies that thrilled me and disgusted me and bored me and moved me, but I have never seen a movie so jaw-droppingly awful as this one. I will say that the cinematography is not bad. I will also admit the possibility that actors Benjamin Ciaramello and Peter Cilella conceivably are capable of good work, given good material and a good director, neither of which they had here. The same applies to Erica Curtis and maybe, just maybe, Erica Shaffer, both of whom are quite attractive and charismatic and are saddled with inane dialog and preposterous character shifts. And of course, William Devane, slumming here, is well known for his brilliance, none of which accompanied him to the set of this film. But none of the other performances are worthy of the benefit of the doubt. Scott Kinworthy, in the leading role as the most unlikely, dim-witted, and slow-talking gubernatorial prospect in the history of politics, leads (drags?) a cast of incompetents through some of the most bizarre and painfully elongated dramatic hysteria you are likely to see in your life. If you have ever stumbled across one of those late-night Cinemax movies about topless alien girls from Venus shagging hunky but stupid lawyers, you have seen far, far better movies than this one. Add to the terrible dialog and oscillating character traits an utter absence of awareness how the U.S. court system and criminal incarceration systems work, and you have a masterpiece of dramatic disaster. One minute into the film, I thought it might be interesting. Two minutes in, I got a little worried that the director didn't know how to cut out of a scene. Three minutes in, my jawed dropped to my collarbone and for the next incredibly long two hours it sank further and further until it came to rest on my lap. I'm not sure how I managed to stay through the entire film, but when I came out, the look on my face was of such utter disbelief that an usher gave me free passes and said, "I'm sorry. Come back and see a good movie," before I even had a chance to complain. But he couldn't figure out how to give me my two hours back. Save yourselves.
- Nov 3, 2009
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