Don't Say a Word

Douglas is a dish best served cold. Irritation, contempt and fake bonhomie are the emotions that make his clownish face gripping. Tragically, as uptown psychiatrist Nathan Conrad in this noisy New York thriller, he's in cosy mode - the doting husband and father thrown into turmoil when a downtown colleague asks for help with a disturbed and apparently catatonic teen, Elizabeth (Murphy). What Nathan doesn't know is that jewel thieves, done out of their booty ten years before, also need Elizabeth to open up - she's got a vital number trapped inside her head. And when these Desperate Dans kidnap Nathan's daughter, he's forced to start picking the vulnerable girl's brain. Meanwhile, stroppy cop Sandra Cassidy (Esposito) knows there's something fishy here. Sandra is the film's only plausible presence and she's hardly in it. Far more time is spent with the dough-faced Murphy, usually excellent, but here caught in a 24-hour pout vortex and forced to sing Ophelia-like ditties. Janssen also gets too much exposure as Nathan's wife. As for Bean - the requisite British nasty - he makes Vinnie Jones look subtle. And Douglas? Well, he's the smug liberal to the last.