…at least to read.
From today’s review by Kenneth Turan of the LA Times on “The Dukes of Hazzard”:
“The Dukes of Hazzard” is a film that is not there. It can’t really be reviewed because it doesn’t really exist. It is not empty calories, which implies pleasure, but simply empty. It’s a cosmic void where a movie ought to be.
A collection of promotable elements strung together until it’s time for the next show, “Dukes” is vapid even by the standards of the venerable TV series about Southern boys and their toys — rarely confused with “Omnibus” or “Masterpiece Theater” — it’s based on. With no plot, character or dialogue worth experiencing, let alone remembering, the film merely occupies space on the screen and hopes for the best. […] But even those who remember being amused by the casualness of the small screen version will find that 104 labored minutes of this material stretches it tighter than Daisy Dukes’ celebrated shorts.
From the Rolling Stone:
I have no problems with the jokes being lowbrow and moronic. Hey, it’s still summer. But the film oozes the desperation of people sweating hard to create the illusion that if you yell “yee-haw” long enough you’ll have a good time. It’s not happening.
The big news is the casting of pop princess Jessica Simpson as sexpot cousin Daisy Duke (Catherine Bach created the role for TV). Simpson had never acted in a movie before squeezing into Daisy’s short-shorts. As far as I’m concerned, her record is clean. Simpson’s body is unimpeachable, but her thespian talent is still undiscovered country. […] At one point, the film’s narrator says, “If you have to go to the bathroom, now would be the wrong time.” I beg to differ. There is no wrong time to flush this turd.
This reminds me of some of the worst reviews in “Opening Nights on Broadway: A Critical Quotebook of the Golden Era of the Musical Theatre”. Don’t want to see the show, but the review is worth the price of admission.
