88 Minutes is about a serial killer put away on the evidence of a celebrity psychiatrist. Said killer may be innocent OR he may be trying to frame the good doctor before he’s executed. There’s a death threat in there too, somewhere.

So let’s start by saying “It’s an Al Pacino film.” In alternative universes “It’s an Al Pacino film” still suggests a degree of cachet – which is probably how the all(most)-star cast were persuaded to get involved with this mess in the first place. In 88 Minutes, LeeLee Sobieski, Sybil’s Red-headed Daughter, (Judging) Amy Brenneman, Neal McDonough and Deborah Kara Unger sadly flare and die in a plot that turns more poorly executed circles than an episode of “So You Think You Can Dance?”. They’re all significantly taller than Pacino too – which has apparently been dealt with by giving his hair a life of its own – it rises and falls at will and without reason. (No, continuity is not this film’s strong point.) And if you’re expecting a real-time, 24-esque, race-for-the-finish-line, you will be disappointed. Quite bitterly in fact. It’s 106 minutes long in fact; enough said? What else? 88 Minutes is set in Seattle but it’s filmed in Vancouver, so it rains. A lot.

Honestly? I gave up and went to bed.

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