Hudson Hawk

Bruce Willis and an undercover nun (Andie MacDowell) undertake a wacky adventure in a film they should have called Old Habits Die Hard.

100 minutes of this.

Instead they called this 1991 flop Hudson Hawk, inviting all kinds of turkey and bird puns from critics, but I’m not that cheep. Though I will say that all the jokes sound like they were nicked off Penguin wrappers.

“You won’t be attending that hat convention in July,” quips Hawk (Willis) as he decapitates someone, in a scene that sums up the film’s unholy mixture of playground jokes and OTT violence.

Like so many box office bombs, it’s a combination that leaves you wondering who this film is for. The answer is Bruce Willis, and only Bruce Willis. And that’s another trait of these big-budget disasters: they’re vanity projects.

Willis created this character presumably to represent his ideal man, the man he imagines himself to be in his most private moments; an overgrown frat boy who kills a dog for no reason and steals a toy elephant from a little girl to impress a lady.

He co-wrote the story, the theme song and manages to act badly even when he’s just walking along or having a face. The irrepressible look of smugness plastered on Willis’ mug is doubly excruciating because this whole thing is his fault. His mess. It makes you want to grab his head and rub his nose in it.

Heathers director Michael Lehmann fails to make any sense of this shit-eating grin of a movie, which includes a musical Mission Impossible number and Andie MacDowell clicking like a dolphin.

As anyone who’s seen Jurassic Park or Scarlett Johansson trying to sing will tell you: just because people have the means to do something doesn’t mean they should be allowed. Obnoxious and mean-spirited, Hudson Hawk should be shoved back up the cloaca it came from.

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