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“He made us laugh,” wrote Bob Woodward in his book about the death of John Belushi, “and now he can make us think.” Unfortunately, there are only a few laughs in this interminable screen adaptation, about half of which seem unintentional, and no thoughts at all. Although Michael Chiklis does a creditable job of impersonating Belushi, the lack of any discernible raison d'etre behind this lame replay of All That Jazz and Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life Is Calling—movies that were at least motivated by their status as confessions and auto-critiques—makes for a peculiarly rudderless biopic bound for nowhere. There are no insights offered into either Belushi or his milieu, and all that keeps this movie going is its arsenal of hand-me-down arty conceits: a very square-looking Woodward (J.T. Walsh) walking around with a notepad, Belushi visiting his own past under the custody of a Puerto Rican guardian angel (Ray Sharkey), and some faltering attempts to juice things up with various kinds of disjunctive editing. Earl Mac Rauch's script and Larry Peerce's direction are equally uninspired. This is “the movie that Hollywood didn't want you to see”; now you know why. With Patti D'Arbanville, Lucinda Jenney, Alex Rocco, and Gary Groomes.

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