I've seen this movie three times now. With each subsequent viewing, I am able to pay more attention to the finer details of one of the greatest train wrecks in cinematic history. The laughter that covered some of the dialogue in the other two viewings, over time, is now transitioning into seething contempt. The script is clearly awful and they gave it a $60 million dollar budget. You could make 240 indie films with $250k budgets for that. How many dreams died — how many filmmakers moved back home forever — so that we could watch Marky Mark phone in a performance so bad, it feels like he was doing it on a dare? Awful.