It's Tuesday morning, so let the hate flow

I normally try not to get in the business of telling people not to see movies that I haven't and won't, but the fact there's only one this week - and what it is - just has me in a fairly cranky mood to start the day, so bear with me.

I always knew this week was going to be a hole in what otherwise is just a sensational month for movies. Already, of course, there's "Star Trek," which I'm almost certain to see again this weekend. Next week comes "Terminator: Salvation," for which you can count me thoroughly jazzed, and then Pixar's "Up" and Sam Raimi's "Drag Me to Hell" (but not, apparently, dammit, Rian Johnson "The Brothers Bloom.")

In between, however, all we get is "Angels & Demons." Now, for reasons I'll keep to myself, I will never, ever read a Dan Brown book or see one of his movies, but let me see if I have this plot summary right. After the Pope is murdered, the four Preferiti, or candidates to replace him, are also slain. Is this really anyone's idea of pleasant Summertime entertainment? Sheesh. Here's hoping against hope that this somehow makes a grand total of about $100 worldwide.

And, in the spirit of hating, which can actually be more than a little fun, here's a word or two about one I did see last weekend, so I guess you can call this a cautionary tale. Here goes:


I should have known "Next Day Air" was going to be a disaster when I saw it called, in separate places, both "the black Pineapple Express" and "the black Lock, Stock and Two Smokin' Barrels."

Now, I guess the bigger question would be why we would need either of those, but for right now, I can just tell you "Next Day Air" just falls miserable short of both. Not even Donald Faison, Wood Harris (Avon Barksdale on "The Wire") and Mos Def (who wisely only spends about five minutes total in this train wreck), all of whom I like a whole lot, were enough to give this flick either an ounce of comedic charm or dramatic urgency. Lacking both, it's a grim affair, and much more importantly, just incredibly boring. Avoid this one at all costs. I sure wish I had.

Actually, I guess just about everyone already has since it made a grand total of about $4 million. I give it one more week, and the filmmakers only have themselves to blame, because I really can't think of a movie I was looking forward to more that's just so completely lacking in anything that could even come close to being called entertainment value.

The premise, which I knew going in, can only generously be called tired. Faison, playing a spliffed-out delivery guy, delivers a package of narcotics to the wrong address. To that, the movie adds almost no comedy and really no further story, hence why it has no relation AT ALL to "Lock, Stock" and even less to "Pineapple Express." Debbie Allen shows up for about two minutes and tries very hard to be funny, as does Mos Def, but they both wisely bail very quickly. I guarantee that if you do somehow manage to see this, Mos' line in the commercial, "I like your outfit," is just about the only one that will make you even snicker.

And you can call me a devoted fan of "stylized violence," but the bullet ballet that closes out "Next Day Air" forgot one key element: Any kind of style. It just mercifully puts this instantly forgettable flick to bed in just under 90 minutes, which in my book amounts to a mercy killing. Peace out.