Die Hard with a Vengeance
The more sequels Hollywood makes, the more we regret that the original movie was ever produced in the first place. Seeing "Die Hard with a Vengeance" is like drinking New Coke -- you run from the theater and spit on an usher and yell, "Why'd you have to go and ruin it for?!"
Director John McTiernan helmed the first film and Renny Harlin (of "maybe I'll go make a fifty million dollar pirate movie and ruin my career" fame) directed the second, so we're supposed to be ecstatic that McTiernan is returning to run the third film and send New York supercop John McClane through his paces.
However, setting a movie in New York where some German nutcase (Jeremy Irons) is threatening to blow stuff up isn't particularly exciting. People do much worse stuff in NYC all the time. And watching McClane and new buddy Samuel L. Jackson drive around the city like maniacs didn't do anything for me either because just about everybody drives around New York City like that. If the filmmakers wanted shock effect, they should have filmed Willis and Jackson walking around the city saying hello and being nice to strangers. This film would then have been destined to become a cult classic.
Since McClane has survived every conceivable life-threatening situation under the sun, "Die Hard with a Vengeance" is forced to invent new, increasingly stupid ways to have him almost die. This time McClane runs around a big drainage pipe so the filmmakers can shoot McClane out of a portal when the water comes rushing through, producing what amounts to a Bruce Willis orgasm.
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