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The 100




Stay Tuned
(1992)
Reviewed by Russell Tharp
Rating: 9 Beans

ife is just loaded with little ironies. Our open and public society in the US is safeguarded by the closed and secret machinations of the Supreme Court. Alanis Morrisette's song "Ironic" contains no actual examples of irony. And the movie which attempts comedy by showing what entertainment might be like in Hell is actually the prime candidate to be aired there 24 hours a day.

Generally, I pick movies to review that I sort of liked, no matter how scathing my review. I watch them and review them because they're bad in some quirky, off-key way that appeals to me. I assure you, this is not the case with "Stay Tuned," 88 minutes of the most excrutiatingly unfunny comedy it has ever been my misfortune to witness.

John Ritter stars as Roy Knable, a pathetic couch potato who unwittingly sells his soul to Satan in return for a really nice entertainment center. Pam Dawber returns briefly from Ork, where she has been exiled ever since her "My Sister Sam" co-star was murdered, to play Knable's wife, Helen. The Knables are sucked into their satellite dish and forced to participate in Hell's TV shows, each of which is a parody of a real TV show, and each of which is designed to kill them. The Knables' kids are at home, watching---oh, to hell with this.

Look, this movie doesn't even deserve the time it takes me to type this sentence. I'd be doing both you and myself a grave disservice if I were to attempt to describe the incredibly lame brainfarts that pass for inspired parodies. Driving Over Miss Daisy. Northern Overexposure. 30something-to-life. Your sides are splitting from the titles alone, I can tell. Stop it, you're killing me.

I can understand the involvement of Ritter and Dawber in this misbegotten little abortion of a movie. They're both cast-aside leftovers from 70s TV; talentless, aging hacks who are now treated like the fat slut from high school that everyone at the reunion is too embarrassed to admit they screwed. But what in god's name could have coerced Peter Hyams into directing this stinking puddle of dog vomit? If he needed money, he probably could have gotten a few gigs directing "Law&Order" or something. Jesus, if I'd known he was this hard up, I'd have loaned him a few bucks myself.

To sum up: under no circumstances should you rent, buy, view, glance in the general direction of, or even think about this movie. Not if you value your soul. Thank you.






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