2087. The moon's been turned into a huge mining colony, robots walk the streets and Hilary Clinton's mugshot can be found on American banknotes. In the lunar colony Little America, ex-smuggler-turned-nightclub- owner Pluto Nash (Eddie Murphy) is trying to fend off a buy out from the moon's Mafia, but their $10 million offer isn't the kind he's supposed to refuse.
This dismal sci-fi yarn has been suspended in zero gravity since last year, after the negative reactions of discerning test-screening audiences scared director Ron Underwood (City Slickers) into some desperate reshoots. But even with an extra 12 months' hard graft - which, by all accounts, had bugger-all effect on those test screening scores - - Pluto Nash is a disaster.
Not only does it have yawnful action sequences, few laughs and some really, really ropey special effects, but it also manages to waste a great supporting cast (Pam Grier, John Cleese, Joe Pantoliano). The end result - - sorry about this - - looks like something that's been blasted out of Uranus.
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