A comedy based on the rag trade where new designs are fair game for ruthless competitors. A fashion millionaire's wife is kidnapped but when the kidnappers try to extort money they find that he has gone out celebrating with his mistress.
No one tries very hard in Big Momma's House, so your enjoyment of this Martin Lawrence vehicle pretty much depends on how much amusement you're able to derive from a guy dressed up as a very ample woman. The setup is of the eye-rolling, only-in-Hollywood nature: Lawrence, as detective Malcolm Turner, is after a killer, and apparently the only way to capture him is to pose as the bad guy's ex-girlfriend's grandmother, who--the film cannot stress this point too much--is quite large. Apparently, Sherry (Nia Long), the young woman in question--she's as attractive as Big Momma is, well, you know--is none too bright, for she falls for Malcolm's ruse, which of course ostensibly amuses mainly because it's so transparent. She at least has an excuse--she hasn't seen Big Momma in two years--but Big Momma's oblivious friends must be functional morons. Screenwriters Darryl Quarles and Don Rhymer didn't tax themselves very much, as they have Malcolm-as-Big-Momma going through fairly predictable motions--botching a meal and delivering a baby unconventionally (Big Momma's a midwife), but ruling at basketball and self-defence and protecting Sherry while trying vainly not to flirt with her. Paul Giamatti is wasted as Malcolm's partner; director Raja Gosnell's clunky sense of comic rhythm is bewildering, because he used to be an editor (he brought a similar lack of magic to Home Alone 3). Lawrence won't have anyone forgetting Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon in Some Like It Hot, Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie, or Robin Williams in Mrs Doubtfire anytime soon. Eddie Murphy in The Nutty Professor 2: The Klumps is far more accomplished, versatile, and funny. --David Kronke, Amazon.com
Radio astronomer Zane Ziminski becomes intrigued by some strange wavelengths and noises he picks up over his transmitter. But when Zane alerts his boss to his findings he's fired. So Zane conducts an investigation on his own tracing the sound waves to a Mexican village. After more sleuthing (and some odd occurrences) Zane discovers a power plant -- that turns out to be the headquarters of some very deadly extraterrestrials.
A predictable vehicle for the resistable Martin Lawrence, Black Knight is yet another rerun of Mark Twain's Connecticut Yankee at the Court of King Arthur concept which here plays like a horror-free, considerably less funny take on Army of Darkness. Jamal (Lawrence), minion in a mediaeval theme park, reaches into a moat for a magic amulet and is transported to the 14th century, where he is appalled by the toilet facilities, pals around with a disgraced knight (an equally disgraced Tom Wilkinson), romances a feminist lady-in-waiting (Marsha Thomason), introduces soul music to the court in a bit done better in A Knight's Tale, and becomes the legendary black knight to help the rebels overthrow the wicked king. It has a bigger, more lavish feel than most of Lawrence's makeshift knockabouts, but that may also be why it is even less funny, since his rants are rather reined-in and his screen character comes across as just overly pleased with himself rather than a comic foul-up who turns heroic. --Kim Newman No-one tries very hard in Big Momma's House so your enjoyment of this Martin Lawrence vehicle pretty much depends on how much amusement you are able to derive from a guy dressed up as a very ample woman. The setup is of the eye-rolling, only-in-Hollywood nature: Lawrence, as detective Malcolm Turner, is after a killer, and apparently the only way to capture him is to pose as the bad guy's ex-girlfriend's grandmother, who--the film cannot stress this point too much--is quite large. Apparently, Sherry (Nia Long), the young woman in question--she's as attractive as Big Momma is, well, you know--is none too bright, for she falls for Malcolm's ruse, which of course ostensibly amuses mainly because it's so transparent. Paul Giamatti is wasted as Malcolm's partner, while director Raja Gosnell's clunky sense of comic rhythm is bewildering, because he used to be an editor (he brought a similar lack of magic to Home Alone 3). Eddie Murphy in The Nutty Professor 2: The Klumps is far more accomplished, versatile and funny. --David Kronke
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