A long time ago, way back in the early '80s, a late-night TV show "Fridays" came to ABC, trying to steal the limelight away from NBC's badly-listing "Saturday Night Live". It didn't but it did introduce some repugnant sketches and semi-talented "comedians" to the world. Like Mark Blankenfield, for example.
Which, in a roundabout way, brings us to "Jekyll and Hyde... Together Again". Which is repugnant in ways all its own.
Blankenfield is about as subtle as a pew full of whoopee cushions going off after Communion. And about as tasteful, too. This is just his drugged-out druggist character he played on the ill-fated "Fridays" show stretched out to feature length. And if you didn't like him there, why are you reading this review?
Any time it takes more than one or two writers to write a movie, that's a bad sign. Then when it goes for dunder-headed jokes that would get you thrown off every improv stage in the Western hemisphere and replaces gags with gross-out, things can only get worse.
A comic take on a Robert Louis Stevenson story? About as good an idea as making a sitcom out of Poe's "Fall of the House of Usher".
Aside from a few (VERY few) gags that give a slight grin, this whole film is an exercise in waste - wasted actors, wasted film, wasted opportunities.
No wonder they showed original author Stevenson turning in his grave. What more observant a review could they give themselves?
No stars. No, not even for Armstrong, who should have known better.
"Hyde" from this one.
Which, in a roundabout way, brings us to "Jekyll and Hyde... Together Again". Which is repugnant in ways all its own.
Blankenfield is about as subtle as a pew full of whoopee cushions going off after Communion. And about as tasteful, too. This is just his drugged-out druggist character he played on the ill-fated "Fridays" show stretched out to feature length. And if you didn't like him there, why are you reading this review?
Any time it takes more than one or two writers to write a movie, that's a bad sign. Then when it goes for dunder-headed jokes that would get you thrown off every improv stage in the Western hemisphere and replaces gags with gross-out, things can only get worse.
A comic take on a Robert Louis Stevenson story? About as good an idea as making a sitcom out of Poe's "Fall of the House of Usher".
Aside from a few (VERY few) gags that give a slight grin, this whole film is an exercise in waste - wasted actors, wasted film, wasted opportunities.
No wonder they showed original author Stevenson turning in his grave. What more observant a review could they give themselves?
No stars. No, not even for Armstrong, who should have known better.
"Hyde" from this one.