Whatever Committee of PC Enforcers is responsible for this movie has achieved something that I never thought possible: to take some truly gifted actors (Davis, Hardin and Taylor) and make you want to insure you never encounter them in an enclosed space, ever. The sentiments that underlie the screenplay are so jejeune and idiotic that it is impossible to understand or imagine what audience would find this picture appealing, much less funny. Architecture students perhaps?<br /><br />Only one scene is visually clever: Marcia Gay Hardin sashaying, all wriggles and rhythm, into a bar manages to exude more style and energy in ten seconds than the whole of the rest of the film added up and multiplied to the tenth power. As for the other members of the cast, they probably won't want to put this one on their resumes.