Bette Davis said that the more famous an actor becomes, the less acting he has to do. That has never been so true as in the case of Al Pacino who is on the way to becoming a self-parody.

I just saw his latest effort “88 Minutes,” a film with an interesting premise but with a terrible script, laughable acting and clumsy direction and which also runs a lengthy 105 minutes. He plays a forensic psychiatrist who receives a phone call saying he has 88 minutes left to live. It’s all part of some ridiculous revenge plot to do with a serial killer that he helped convict 9 years earlier. Of course he’s also psychologically haunted by the murder of his little sister years back, which he feels responsible for.

Al’s hair does more convincing acting in this, although it’s looking surprisingly full and bushy. He also has an admirable tan for someone living in rainy Seattle. There are a couple of typical ‘Al’ moments, where he sprays some spit around in anger, but the rest of it is just funny. How he could commit to such twaddle is a mystery. Leelee Sobieski and Alicia Witt also do some stunningly bad work here. Did I mention that all the murder victims are women? And they are all killed in their underwear? Come on Al, there must be better scripts than this?!