Time is of the essence for Al Pacino's Dr. Jack Gramm, a forensic scientist who receives a threatening call on his cell phone informing him he's got all of 88 minutes to live.
But a scant hour-and-a-half can seem like a hellish eternity when you've got a nonsensical, exposition-heavy script (by Gary Scott Thompson) and stagy directing (by Jon Avnet) to work with, not to mention an official running time that actually exceeds the American-German co-production's real-time gimmick by almost 20 minutes.
Spending a good portion of the past two years being knocked around TriStar's release schedule, this ridiculous thriller would be hard-pressed to last much longer than its title in theaters before doing time on DVD, as is already the case in many overseas territories.
When two copycat killings take place within hours of the scheduled execution of Jon Forster (Neal McDonough), who was found guilty of being the serial killer known as the The Seattle Strangler, the media is beginning to wonder if Gramm's nine-year-old testimony convicted the right guy.
While Gramm is convinced the grisly killings are the work of a copycat killer, he finds himself with more pressing problems when he receives a personal, time-sensitive death threat from somebody who would appear to be operating within his own circle of colleagues.
As the body count continues to hit ever closer to home, Gramm is required to cut through the mounting paranoia and whittle down the list of potential suspects before it's too late.
It will actually take a lot less than 88 minutes for most audience members to figure out whodunit thanks to some clunky execution that effectively tips the culprit's identity within the first half-hour.
The old built-in ticking clock is a trick that can work successfully on a show like "24" or, to a lesser extent, in a film like John Badham's 1995 thriller, Nick of Time, but it requires expert calibration from both the writing and direction to pull it off.
A quickening of pace would also be a prerequisite, but in the case of 88 Minutes the accompanying action is more of the head-scratching than the pulse-pounding variety.
While Avnet is a filmmaker with a proven strength for character-driven literary drama like Fried Green Tomatoes, he seems out of his element here, especially the one provided by Gary Scott Thompson's ragingly artificial copycat of a copycat killer picture.
Pacino, sporting a wild hairdo and facial hair that seemingly channels the late Wolfman Jack, counts on his old bag of tricks to pump some credibility into his character, but this time they only take him so far.
Also squandered is a talented supporting cast including Alicia Witt, Amy Brenneman and Leelee Sobieski, among the list of possible suspects, who have all, apparently been instructed to overplay their roles on the potentially guilty side.
With something like eight executive producers on board, it's not surprising that the prevailing visual style would be best described as quick and dirty, with a barely-disguised Vancouver subbing for Seattle.
88 MINUTES
TriStar Pictures
A TriStar Pictures and Millennium Films presentation of a Randall Emmett/George Furla production for Equity Pictures Medienfonds GmbH & KG III and Nu Image Entertainment GmbH.
Credits:
Director: Jon Avnet
Writer: Gary Scott Thompson
Producers: Jon Avnet, Randall Emmett, Gary Scott Thompson, Avi Lerner
Executive producers: Danny Dimbort, Trevor Short, Boaz Davidson, George Furla, Andreas Thiesmeyer, Josef Lautenschlager, Lawrence Bender, John Baldecchi
Director of photography: Denis Lenoir
Production designer: Tracey Gallacher
Music: Edward Shearmur
Co-producers: Michael Flannigan, John Thompson, Samuel Hadida, Marsha Oglesby, Jochen Kamlah, Gerd Koechlin, Manfred Heid
Costume designer: Mary McLeod
Editor: Peter Berger
Cast:
Jack Gramm: Al Pacino
Kim Cummings: Alicia Witt
Lauren Douglas: Leelee Sobieski
Shelly Barnes: Amy Brenneman
Carol Lynn Johnson: Deborah Kara Unger
Benjamin McKenzie: Mike Stempt
Jon Forster: Neal McDonough
Running time -- 106 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
But a scant hour-and-a-half can seem like a hellish eternity when you've got a nonsensical, exposition-heavy script (by Gary Scott Thompson) and stagy directing (by Jon Avnet) to work with, not to mention an official running time that actually exceeds the American-German co-production's real-time gimmick by almost 20 minutes.
Spending a good portion of the past two years being knocked around TriStar's release schedule, this ridiculous thriller would be hard-pressed to last much longer than its title in theaters before doing time on DVD, as is already the case in many overseas territories.
When two copycat killings take place within hours of the scheduled execution of Jon Forster (Neal McDonough), who was found guilty of being the serial killer known as the The Seattle Strangler, the media is beginning to wonder if Gramm's nine-year-old testimony convicted the right guy.
While Gramm is convinced the grisly killings are the work of a copycat killer, he finds himself with more pressing problems when he receives a personal, time-sensitive death threat from somebody who would appear to be operating within his own circle of colleagues.
As the body count continues to hit ever closer to home, Gramm is required to cut through the mounting paranoia and whittle down the list of potential suspects before it's too late.
It will actually take a lot less than 88 minutes for most audience members to figure out whodunit thanks to some clunky execution that effectively tips the culprit's identity within the first half-hour.
The old built-in ticking clock is a trick that can work successfully on a show like "24" or, to a lesser extent, in a film like John Badham's 1995 thriller, Nick of Time, but it requires expert calibration from both the writing and direction to pull it off.
A quickening of pace would also be a prerequisite, but in the case of 88 Minutes the accompanying action is more of the head-scratching than the pulse-pounding variety.
While Avnet is a filmmaker with a proven strength for character-driven literary drama like Fried Green Tomatoes, he seems out of his element here, especially the one provided by Gary Scott Thompson's ragingly artificial copycat of a copycat killer picture.
Pacino, sporting a wild hairdo and facial hair that seemingly channels the late Wolfman Jack, counts on his old bag of tricks to pump some credibility into his character, but this time they only take him so far.
Also squandered is a talented supporting cast including Alicia Witt, Amy Brenneman and Leelee Sobieski, among the list of possible suspects, who have all, apparently been instructed to overplay their roles on the potentially guilty side.
With something like eight executive producers on board, it's not surprising that the prevailing visual style would be best described as quick and dirty, with a barely-disguised Vancouver subbing for Seattle.
88 MINUTES
TriStar Pictures
A TriStar Pictures and Millennium Films presentation of a Randall Emmett/George Furla production for Equity Pictures Medienfonds GmbH & KG III and Nu Image Entertainment GmbH.
Credits:
Director: Jon Avnet
Writer: Gary Scott Thompson
Producers: Jon Avnet, Randall Emmett, Gary Scott Thompson, Avi Lerner
Executive producers: Danny Dimbort, Trevor Short, Boaz Davidson, George Furla, Andreas Thiesmeyer, Josef Lautenschlager, Lawrence Bender, John Baldecchi
Director of photography: Denis Lenoir
Production designer: Tracey Gallacher
Music: Edward Shearmur
Co-producers: Michael Flannigan, John Thompson, Samuel Hadida, Marsha Oglesby, Jochen Kamlah, Gerd Koechlin, Manfred Heid
Costume designer: Mary McLeod
Editor: Peter Berger
Cast:
Jack Gramm: Al Pacino
Kim Cummings: Alicia Witt
Lauren Douglas: Leelee Sobieski
Shelly Barnes: Amy Brenneman
Carol Lynn Johnson: Deborah Kara Unger
Benjamin McKenzie: Mike Stempt
Jon Forster: Neal McDonough
Running time -- 106 minutes
MPAA rating: R...
- 4/14/2008
- The Hollywood Reporter - Movie News
NEW YORK -- The notorious Lonely Hearts Killers of the 1940s already have provided the inspiration for more than one film. But while the duo's crimes were indeed sensational, writer-director Todd Robinson's starry take on the material fails to provide much in the way of a new perspective. Concentrating as much on the detectives investigating the case as on the killers, "Lonely Hearts" fails to show off its impressive cast at their best. The film recently had its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival.
For those who don't recollect the case, it involved Raymond Fernandez (Jared Leto) and Martha Beck (Salma Hayek), who teamed up to commit a string of murders before being caught and executed at Sing Sing in 1951. They were dubbed the Lonely Heart Killers because of their conning of lonely war widows, using Raymond's Latin charms as romantic bait.
Robinson's version depicts the initial teaming of the pair, after Raymond attempted to fleece Martha before realizing she was more than his match when it came to criminality. Indeed, as the film has it, she was a murderous psychopath who elevated her partner's crimes from mere swindling to murder.
Tracking the pair are Long Island detectives Elmer C. Robinson (John Travolta) and his partner, Charles Hildebrandt (James Gandolfini). Fueling Robinson's passion to solve the case is his guilt over his wife's suicide and his covert relationship with a female co-worker (Laura Dern).
The film alternates between scenes depicting the killers' wooing and dispatching of their victims, including a lonely middle-aged woman (Alice Krige) and a young widowed mother (Dagmara Dominczyk), and the detectives' dogged pursuit. The filmmaker doesn't shy away from brutal violence when it comes to the murders, with several of the scenes proving difficult to watch.
Unfortunately, the filmmaker is unable to render either of his intertwining stories with much interest. The killers' crime spree has a familiarity that is not given a particularly original approach, as does the detective's emotional travails. (It's easy to understand the emphasis, however, since Robinson is the real-life grandson of Travolta's character).
Travolta and Gandolfini, in their fourth film together, have a strong rapport, and the former provides his usual complex emotional shadings. But Gandolfini, other than providing a hard-boiled narration, has little to work with here. More egregious in terms of casting are Leto, who is wholly unconvincing as a smooth Latin charmer, and Hayek, who besides bearing no physical resemblance at all to the actual Beck, even here seems far more likable than threatening.
LONELY HEARTS
Nu Image/Millennium Films
Credits:
Director-screenwriter: Todd Robinson
Producers: Boaz Davidson, Holly Wiersma
Executive producers: Danny Dimbort, Randall Emmett, George Furla, Manfred Heid, Gerd Koechlin, Josef Lautenschlager, Avi Lerner, Trevor Short, Andreas Thiesmeyer, John Thompson
Cinematographer: Peter Levy
Editor: Kathryn Himoff
Production designer: Jon Gary Steele
Costume designer: Jacqueline West
Music: Mychael Danna
Cast:
Elmer C. Robinson: John Travolta
Charles Hildebrandt: James Gandolfini
Martha Beck: Salma Hayek
Raymond Fernandez: Jared Leto
Rene: Laura Dern
Detective Reilly: Scott Caan
Janet: Alice Krige
Delphine Downing: Dagmara Dominczyk
Running time -- 108 minutes
MPAA rating R...
For those who don't recollect the case, it involved Raymond Fernandez (Jared Leto) and Martha Beck (Salma Hayek), who teamed up to commit a string of murders before being caught and executed at Sing Sing in 1951. They were dubbed the Lonely Heart Killers because of their conning of lonely war widows, using Raymond's Latin charms as romantic bait.
Robinson's version depicts the initial teaming of the pair, after Raymond attempted to fleece Martha before realizing she was more than his match when it came to criminality. Indeed, as the film has it, she was a murderous psychopath who elevated her partner's crimes from mere swindling to murder.
Tracking the pair are Long Island detectives Elmer C. Robinson (John Travolta) and his partner, Charles Hildebrandt (James Gandolfini). Fueling Robinson's passion to solve the case is his guilt over his wife's suicide and his covert relationship with a female co-worker (Laura Dern).
The film alternates between scenes depicting the killers' wooing and dispatching of their victims, including a lonely middle-aged woman (Alice Krige) and a young widowed mother (Dagmara Dominczyk), and the detectives' dogged pursuit. The filmmaker doesn't shy away from brutal violence when it comes to the murders, with several of the scenes proving difficult to watch.
Unfortunately, the filmmaker is unable to render either of his intertwining stories with much interest. The killers' crime spree has a familiarity that is not given a particularly original approach, as does the detective's emotional travails. (It's easy to understand the emphasis, however, since Robinson is the real-life grandson of Travolta's character).
Travolta and Gandolfini, in their fourth film together, have a strong rapport, and the former provides his usual complex emotional shadings. But Gandolfini, other than providing a hard-boiled narration, has little to work with here. More egregious in terms of casting are Leto, who is wholly unconvincing as a smooth Latin charmer, and Hayek, who besides bearing no physical resemblance at all to the actual Beck, even here seems far more likable than threatening.
LONELY HEARTS
Nu Image/Millennium Films
Credits:
Director-screenwriter: Todd Robinson
Producers: Boaz Davidson, Holly Wiersma
Executive producers: Danny Dimbort, Randall Emmett, George Furla, Manfred Heid, Gerd Koechlin, Josef Lautenschlager, Avi Lerner, Trevor Short, Andreas Thiesmeyer, John Thompson
Cinematographer: Peter Levy
Editor: Kathryn Himoff
Production designer: Jon Gary Steele
Costume designer: Jacqueline West
Music: Mychael Danna
Cast:
Elmer C. Robinson: John Travolta
Charles Hildebrandt: James Gandolfini
Martha Beck: Salma Hayek
Raymond Fernandez: Jared Leto
Rene: Laura Dern
Detective Reilly: Scott Caan
Janet: Alice Krige
Delphine Downing: Dagmara Dominczyk
Running time -- 108 minutes
MPAA rating R...
NEW YORK -- The notorious Lonely Hearts Killers of the 1940s already have provided the inspiration for more than one film. But while the duo's crimes were indeed sensational, writer-director Todd Robinson's starry take on the material fails to provide much in the way of a new perspective. Concentrating as much on the detectives investigating the case as on the killers, Lonely Hearts fails to show off its impressive cast at their best. The film recently had its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival.
For those who don't recollect the case, it involved Raymond Fernandez (Jared Leto) and Martha Beck (Salma Hayek), who teamed up to commit a string of murders before being caught and executed at Sing Sing in 1951. They were dubbed the Lonely Heart Killers because of their conning of lonely war widows, using Raymond's Latin charms as romantic bait.
Robinson's version depicts the initial teaming of the pair, after Raymond attempted to fleece Martha before realizing she was more than his match when it came to criminality. Indeed, as the film has it, she was a murderous psychopath who elevated her partner's crimes from mere swindling to murder.
Tracking the pair are Long Island detectives Elmer C. Robinson (John Travolta) and his partner, Charles Hildebrandt (James Gandolfini). Fueling Robinson's passion to solve the case is his guilt over his wife's suicide and his covert relationship with a female co-worker (Laura Dern).
The film alternates between scenes depicting the killers' wooing and dispatching of their victims, including a lonely middle-aged woman (Alice Krige) and a young widowed mother (Dagmara Dominczyk), and the detectives' dogged pursuit. The filmmaker doesn't shy away from brutal violence when it comes to the murders, with several of the scenes proving difficult to watch.
Unfortunately, the filmmaker is unable to render either of his intertwining stories with much interest. The killers' crime spree has a familiarity that is not given a particularly original approach, as does the detective's emotional travails. (It's easy to understand the emphasis, however, since Robinson is the real-life grandson of Travolta's character).
Travolta and Gandolfini, in their fourth film together, have a strong rapport, and the former provides his usual complex emotional shadings. But Gandolfini, other than providing a hard-boiled narration, has little to work with here. More egregious in terms of casting are Leto, who is wholly unconvincing as a smooth Latin charmer, and Hayek, who besides bearing no physical resemblance at all to the actual Beck, even here seems far more likable than threatening.
LONELY HEARTS
Nu Image/Millennium Films
Credits:
Director-screenwriter: Todd Robinson
Producers: Boaz Davidson, Holly Wiersma
Executive producers: Danny Dimbort, Randall Emmett, George Furla, Manfred Heid, Gerd Koechlin, Josef Lautenschlager, Avi Lerner, Trevor Short, Andreas Thiesmeyer, John Thompson
Cinematographer: Peter Levy
Editor: Kathryn Himoff
Production designer: Jon Gary Steele
Costume designer: Jacqueline West
Music: Mychael Danna
Cast:
Elmer C. Robinson: John Travolta
Charles Hildebrandt: James Gandolfini
Martha Beck: Salma Hayek
Raymond Fernandez: Jared Leto
Rene: Laura Dern: Detective Reilly: Scott Caan
Janet: Alice Krige
Delphine Downing: Dagmara Dominczyk
MPAA rating R
Running time -- 108 minutes...
For those who don't recollect the case, it involved Raymond Fernandez (Jared Leto) and Martha Beck (Salma Hayek), who teamed up to commit a string of murders before being caught and executed at Sing Sing in 1951. They were dubbed the Lonely Heart Killers because of their conning of lonely war widows, using Raymond's Latin charms as romantic bait.
Robinson's version depicts the initial teaming of the pair, after Raymond attempted to fleece Martha before realizing she was more than his match when it came to criminality. Indeed, as the film has it, she was a murderous psychopath who elevated her partner's crimes from mere swindling to murder.
Tracking the pair are Long Island detectives Elmer C. Robinson (John Travolta) and his partner, Charles Hildebrandt (James Gandolfini). Fueling Robinson's passion to solve the case is his guilt over his wife's suicide and his covert relationship with a female co-worker (Laura Dern).
The film alternates between scenes depicting the killers' wooing and dispatching of their victims, including a lonely middle-aged woman (Alice Krige) and a young widowed mother (Dagmara Dominczyk), and the detectives' dogged pursuit. The filmmaker doesn't shy away from brutal violence when it comes to the murders, with several of the scenes proving difficult to watch.
Unfortunately, the filmmaker is unable to render either of his intertwining stories with much interest. The killers' crime spree has a familiarity that is not given a particularly original approach, as does the detective's emotional travails. (It's easy to understand the emphasis, however, since Robinson is the real-life grandson of Travolta's character).
Travolta and Gandolfini, in their fourth film together, have a strong rapport, and the former provides his usual complex emotional shadings. But Gandolfini, other than providing a hard-boiled narration, has little to work with here. More egregious in terms of casting are Leto, who is wholly unconvincing as a smooth Latin charmer, and Hayek, who besides bearing no physical resemblance at all to the actual Beck, even here seems far more likable than threatening.
LONELY HEARTS
Nu Image/Millennium Films
Credits:
Director-screenwriter: Todd Robinson
Producers: Boaz Davidson, Holly Wiersma
Executive producers: Danny Dimbort, Randall Emmett, George Furla, Manfred Heid, Gerd Koechlin, Josef Lautenschlager, Avi Lerner, Trevor Short, Andreas Thiesmeyer, John Thompson
Cinematographer: Peter Levy
Editor: Kathryn Himoff
Production designer: Jon Gary Steele
Costume designer: Jacqueline West
Music: Mychael Danna
Cast:
Elmer C. Robinson: John Travolta
Charles Hildebrandt: James Gandolfini
Martha Beck: Salma Hayek
Raymond Fernandez: Jared Leto
Rene: Laura Dern: Detective Reilly: Scott Caan
Janet: Alice Krige
Delphine Downing: Dagmara Dominczyk
MPAA rating R
Running time -- 108 minutes...
PARK CITY -- There is nothing new under the creative sun in this slight satire of California suburbia. Fried dry with a mordant sensibility, "Chumscrubber" should skim some teenage appreciation from nouveau cineastes who might enjoy sendups of their environs, but more sophisticated and seasoned viewers will be less-than-dazzled by its puffy plottings.
If nothing else, "Chumscrubber" should be a front-runner for the worst title of the year award. What does the title mean? It's not worth explaining.
Set smack dab in one of those Golden State environs that seems a cross between "E.T". burgs and "Edward Scissorhands" blocks, "Chumscrubber" centers on Dean (Jamie Bell), a sullen loner who discovers his closest acquaintance hanging from the rafters of his pool house. Dean neglects to tell anyone that his neighbor has offed himself. His indifference is partly prompted by the fact that anything he says his to self-absorbed father (William Fichtner) crams into psychobabble best sellers. Not that anyone would listen to Dean anyway, because he is bereft of friends, and all the adults in the neighborhood are too daft or tranked to comprehend.
Screenwriter Zac Stanford's lightweight scenario revolves around drugs, spinning out around the dead kid's stash. A gang of three, who might in more Disney-esque times resemble the Apple Dumpling gang, kidnap a tyke who they think is the hanged-one's little brother. Their idea is to get dull Dean to retrieve the departed one's bag of pills. But, they get the wrong kid.
Nobody seems to notice the kid heist, which is, perhaps, the funniest part of this comedy. Most wickedly, the kidnapped child's mother (Rita Wilson) is too absorbed in the logistics of her upcoming wedding to miss him. Similarly, her fiance (Ralph Fiennes) is undergoing a California-style personal conversion, so he's too spaced to notice also.
Despite the tired narrative, there are some funny, dry moments as the varied goofballs of the burb go about their self-absorbed business. The cast, especially Wilson as the preoccupied mother, are the film's highlights. Additionally, Fichtner is wonderfully oily as a self-promoter, while Glenn Close's wide-eyed glaze as the dead boy's mother is amusingly wacko.
Overall, director Arie Posin's comic rendering is most effective in visualizing the lifestyle looniness, courtesy of the deadpan production design of Patti Podesta and the fractured compositions of cinematographer Lawrence Sher.
The Chumscrubber
Newmarket Films
A film by Arie Posin
Credits:
Producers: Lawrence Bender, Bonnie Curtis
Director: Arie Posin
Screenwriter: Zac Stanford
Story: Arie Posin, Zac Stanford
Co-producers: Lee Clay, Susanne Bohnet, Manfred D. Heid, Gerd Koechlin, Robert Katz
Line producer: Michael Beugg
Executive producers: Bob Yari, Joseph Lautenschlager, Philip Levenson, Michael Beugg, Andreas Thiesmeyer
Director of photrography: Lawrence Sher
Editors: William S. Scharf, Arthur Schmidt
Music: James Horner
Music supervisor: Chris Douridas
Production designer: Patti Podesta
Casting: Anya Colloff, Amy McIntyre Britt
Cast:
Dean: Jamie Bell
Mrs. Johnson: Glenn Close
Charlie Stiffle: Rory Culkin
Dr. Bill Stiffle: William Fichtner
Michael Ebbs: Ralph Fiennes
Officer Lou Bratley: John Heard
Boutique owner: Lauren Holly
Terri Bratley: Rita Wilson
No MPAA rating
Running time -- 102 minutes...
If nothing else, "Chumscrubber" should be a front-runner for the worst title of the year award. What does the title mean? It's not worth explaining.
Set smack dab in one of those Golden State environs that seems a cross between "E.T". burgs and "Edward Scissorhands" blocks, "Chumscrubber" centers on Dean (Jamie Bell), a sullen loner who discovers his closest acquaintance hanging from the rafters of his pool house. Dean neglects to tell anyone that his neighbor has offed himself. His indifference is partly prompted by the fact that anything he says his to self-absorbed father (William Fichtner) crams into psychobabble best sellers. Not that anyone would listen to Dean anyway, because he is bereft of friends, and all the adults in the neighborhood are too daft or tranked to comprehend.
Screenwriter Zac Stanford's lightweight scenario revolves around drugs, spinning out around the dead kid's stash. A gang of three, who might in more Disney-esque times resemble the Apple Dumpling gang, kidnap a tyke who they think is the hanged-one's little brother. Their idea is to get dull Dean to retrieve the departed one's bag of pills. But, they get the wrong kid.
Nobody seems to notice the kid heist, which is, perhaps, the funniest part of this comedy. Most wickedly, the kidnapped child's mother (Rita Wilson) is too absorbed in the logistics of her upcoming wedding to miss him. Similarly, her fiance (Ralph Fiennes) is undergoing a California-style personal conversion, so he's too spaced to notice also.
Despite the tired narrative, there are some funny, dry moments as the varied goofballs of the burb go about their self-absorbed business. The cast, especially Wilson as the preoccupied mother, are the film's highlights. Additionally, Fichtner is wonderfully oily as a self-promoter, while Glenn Close's wide-eyed glaze as the dead boy's mother is amusingly wacko.
Overall, director Arie Posin's comic rendering is most effective in visualizing the lifestyle looniness, courtesy of the deadpan production design of Patti Podesta and the fractured compositions of cinematographer Lawrence Sher.
The Chumscrubber
Newmarket Films
A film by Arie Posin
Credits:
Producers: Lawrence Bender, Bonnie Curtis
Director: Arie Posin
Screenwriter: Zac Stanford
Story: Arie Posin, Zac Stanford
Co-producers: Lee Clay, Susanne Bohnet, Manfred D. Heid, Gerd Koechlin, Robert Katz
Line producer: Michael Beugg
Executive producers: Bob Yari, Joseph Lautenschlager, Philip Levenson, Michael Beugg, Andreas Thiesmeyer
Director of photrography: Lawrence Sher
Editors: William S. Scharf, Arthur Schmidt
Music: James Horner
Music supervisor: Chris Douridas
Production designer: Patti Podesta
Casting: Anya Colloff, Amy McIntyre Britt
Cast:
Dean: Jamie Bell
Mrs. Johnson: Glenn Close
Charlie Stiffle: Rory Culkin
Dr. Bill Stiffle: William Fichtner
Michael Ebbs: Ralph Fiennes
Officer Lou Bratley: John Heard
Boutique owner: Lauren Holly
Terri Bratley: Rita Wilson
No MPAA rating
Running time -- 102 minutes...
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