BY LEAH ROZEN
We've all met great-looking people who can't manage to string a complete sentence together. Well, meet the movie equivalent. Writer-director Michael Mann's slick update of Miami Vice, his classic 1984-1989 TV series about Florida drug cops (best remembered as the show that convinced grown men to skip shaving and pair pink silk T-shirts with aquamarine linen suits), looks fabulous. Too bad it's so tedious.
In the shimmery new Vice, the show's undercover detectives Sonny Crockett (now played by a torpid Farrell) and Ricardo Tubbs (Foxx) chase narcotics barons across borders while Crockett romances one of their girlfriends (Li). Or something like that, since the plot is mired in complicated blather. This dreary film only seems to wake up near the end, when the heroes meet baddies in a spectacular shoot-out. Heads are blown open, blood splatters copiously, and you can't help thinking—between shudders—that it's all kind of cool. Too little, too late. (R)