02/11/1991 at 01:00 AM EST
, Kelly Preston
No, sprint. Dash. Gallop, maybe. In any case, flee, flee in whatever direction takes you away from the nearest theater showing this movie, lest you wander by and be drawn in by an alluring whiff of popcorn.
Unlike many bad movies that have a compensating factor or two, this one has a stupid story, dull scenery, mundane chases, idiotic dialogue, unattractive actors, boring music, childishly nasty violence, no sex, ludicrous plot and shoddy direction.
Director Geoff (Return to Snowy River: Part II) Burrowes's problems start with trying to build a film around Dempsey (Lover-boy), a cipher in terms of acting ability and charisma. He plays a Harvard law student who, while ferrying a car from Boston to Atlantic City, gets into a poker-game fight where a small-town gangster's son is killed.
The gangster gets mad, and Dempsey spends the rest of the movie hoofing it or doing car chases while Preston (Twins), the future Mrs. John Travolta, drones through her beauty-helping-guy-on-lam role.
The dialogue, by Dennis Shryack and Michael Blodgett (Turner & Hootch), runs to such lines as "S—," "Oh s—" and "Holy s—." Then there's this exchange between Dempsey and Tom Pidgeon as a bowling-alley cashier:
Dempsey: Could I have change for a dollar?