By the time you sit through half of this turkey you’ll wish that your own head (or at the very least the head of the screenwriter) could be number nine. Even decapitation would be a welcome relief from this moronic situation comedy. There’s an odd occasional bit of genuine humor (usually when either David Spade or Joe Pesci is on screen, much rarer occurrences than the ads implied), but such occasions are way too few and way too minor to justify the rest of the idiotic farce. Wish I’d skipped it
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