The Flintstones in Viva Rock Vegas
Forgetting for a moment that America needs another "Flintstones" movie like it needs another young Cuban boy washing up on Miami's shores, this film contains two of the most painful performances in recent memory: Kristen Johnson as Wilma and Stephen Baldwin as Barney. Really, you watch these people and try to figure out whether destroying their careers was intentional. I mean, why not do crack and go running through the L.A. Freeway naked? The press would be so much better. Plus, it worked for Martin Lawrence.
It's not exactly like I expect anything from either of these people, but Baldwin was in "The Usual Suspects" -- you'd think he could differentiate between a movie that made him look like an actor and one that made him look like an idiot. Then again, since he is a Baldwin, good acting isn't exactly in his genes.
As for Johnson, whose performance is by far the more painful, she's sort of like Jim Carrey in that her face contorts wildly -- but she doesn't seem to have one iota of control over those muscles. Virtually every expression of hers could be the face of somebody receiving an enema.
As you may have already guessed and probably thought for yourself, "The Flintstones in Viva Rock Vegas" is yabba dabba doody.
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