Showtime review

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Someone once asked James Caan what he was working on. ""Christmas presents"," he replied. ""Is that the name of the movie?"" they asked. ""No. That's what I'm buying with the money"." Well, at least he was honest. Can Robert De Niro and Eddie Murphy persuade anyone that they have more noble reasons for delivering this lame and lazy farce?

Showtime is best avoided altogether. But, if you really must watch it, then please go in having banished all thoughts of the leading men's recent star turns in comic hits Meet The Parents and Shrek. In their place, imagine a benign dilution of Joel Silver's street hip-hopera Exit Wounds given a bland sheen by the director of Shanghai Noon and scripted with a finesse that conjures up painful memories of such late-'80s disaster areas as Fletch Lives and Who's Harry Crumb?

This truly dismal cop action spoof seems to have been plucked from a skip somewhere, 20 years after Richard Pryor and Gene Wilder threw it out in disgust.

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