Hot Pursuit

Here we go again. On the run from gangsters. On the run from cops. On the run from script writers. How could this possibly get worse? They try.

It's the same old odd couple scenario. Reese Witherspoon's character is a carbon copy of Sandra Bullock's in The Heat, except Bullock pulled it off so much better.

Cooper (RW) is a by-the-book Texan police officer who is considered such a liability, due to tunnel vision and a childlike ability to misinterpret emotional messages, that she's stuck in the office doing monkey work.

One day she is called up for a proper outdoor job to accompany an experienced detective and escort a Colombian drugs lord, who has agreed to testify against his boss, with his sexy loudmouth wife (Sofia Vergara), to Dallas for the trial.

Naturally things get noisy and nasty, leaving Cooper and the trophy wife in a flash motor, escaping from every known adversity. This is not unlike Robert De Niro and Charles Grodin in Midnight Run, except Midnight Run was a great movie and Hot Pursuit ain't.

Witherspoon is an actor you love to watch. She has humour; she has grit; she has energy; she never lets you down. Until now.

The trophy wife, who is annoying for different reasons - over the top hysterics, South American style - tells Cooper early on, "It drives me crazy the way you talk." She's right.

The script is against them and the plot hits ground zero once they hook up with a paroled ex-con who is too nice at the price. Good guys turn bad. Bad guys turn back - those that are left alive.

The trouble seems to be that Witherspoon plays Cooper for real and not as a joke while Vergara feels more comfortable being screamy stupido.

The thrills and spills appear artificial and predictable. You don't care enough; you don't care at all.

Somewhere down the road the film dies and the director hasn't noticed.

Message to Reese: "Careful of your choices, hon."