Old Dogs

Taking into account films like ‘Patch Adams’, ‘RV’ and ‘License to Wed’, Robin Williams’s acting CV now has more bizarre blotches on it than an abstract expressionist canvas. Even so, ‘Old Dogs’ is a special kind of bad. Here he plays a vile corporate shitbag who is charged with the unspeakable task of caring for his own children (the result of a drunken fling in Miami)… for two whole weeks. With John Travolta worming in as his long-time business partner and best bud, this wanton set-up exists solely as an excuse for a lame-brained cavalcade of feebly executed, deeply unfunny and casually offensive skits in which the two prance around, wave their hands in the air and make asses out of themselves. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact nadir. Perhaps it’s when Travolta starts shovelling rhubarb pie over his face? Or what about when the pair unwittingly wander into the silverback enclosure at a zoo? Or maybe it’s when Williams is trapped in a tanning booth and then gets mistaken for an Asian man? Whatever, this is imbecilic hooey of the rarest breed.