A not despicable reprise of the same material, juvenile yet jaded, profoundly lazy and lackadaisical, sufficiently disdainful, even, to aim an occasional joke over the heads of the rubes (something about "my Laura Antonelli tapes"). It is least despicable when least jaded and lazy: Rick Moranis's ineptness as a courtroom lawyer (allowing himself to be led by the witness), Sigourney Weaver's entire "straight-man" act as a single mother with an imperilled child. Bill Murray can still bestir himself to deliver a good line (that is, to deliver a line well), but his unshatterable nonchalance undermines any aspirations to parody. Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis, and Ernie Hudson at least have the decency to act frightened once in a while. Directed by Ivan Reitman. (1989) — Duncan Shepherd
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