Funky fairy tale. Eddie Murphy is the pure-in-heart, sharp-in-tongue Finder of Lost Children in seamy Los Angeles, although in what official capacity we are not to know. Nor are we to know how or why he has also been tabbed as The Chosen One, whose destiny it is to rescue a kidnapped Tibetan holy child, with the power to, among other things, resurrect dead birds and make a Pepsi can tap-dance (you have to see it to believe it, and even then you won't believe it). If the child dies, compassion dies, and on a global scale, too -- just as justice died with the holy child of an earlier millenium. An odd blend of ingredients, to say the least -- and about as savory as lemon juice in milk. Murphy is not about to alter his behavior or bite back any wisecracks just because he has come face to face with agents of Hell. Among his numerous maddening traits, such as camera-consciousness and self-admiration, the worst is his obstinate slowness on the uptake: street-smart but astral-stupid. With Charlotte Lewis and Charles Dance; directed by Michael Ritchie. (1986) — Duncan Shepherd
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