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R.I.P.D.
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Apparently in an effort to cash in on the “Men in Black”
trend while it’s still fresh, Robert Schwentke’s “R.I.P.D.” employs the same
lawless universe afforded to an irresponsible filmmaker making a film about the
supernatural. “R.I.P.D” plays a bit like a Terry Gilliam film without the wit.
Everything is thrown at the wall. No opportunity for the outlandish or the
quirky is left on the table, usually at the expense of continuity or restraint.
When I am told that deceased police officers acting as purgatorial gateway
gunslingers must navigate the world of the living not as invisible phantoms but
as randomly assigned avatars like bodacious supermodels or crotchety old
Chinese men, I begin to suspect that the office in charge of rejecting bad
ideas had sat empty for a day or two. Or eight.