Spanish Judges Movie Review
A self-proclaimed thriller "in the tradition of The Spanish Prisoner and Reservoir Dogs," Spanish Judges is more akin to Death Wish 3 than either of the aforementioned films.
A rather rudimentary con game flick, Spanish Judges puts us at the center of a triple doublecross, with Vincent D'Onofrio (the heavy), Matthew Lillard (the brain), and Valeria Golino (the vixen... uh, right...) all trying to recover two antique dueling pistols called The Mexicans, er... the Spanish Judges. Director Oz Scott (a prolific TV directing guy) goes to outrageous lengths to set up the intricacies of the doublespeak, but really it comes down to a simple proposition: after copious shootouts, two will die, and one will abscond with the loot.
I guess it's a little like Reservoir Dogs after all...
Too bad Spanish Judges comes off like the cheap, direct-to-video pap that it is. D'Onofrio, normally a stellar actor, stumbles through the sub-par script, reduced to begging for cashews throughout the film. Lillard can be funny, but clearly he's too busy with his duties as a producer to be bothered to act. Golino just looks scary and trashy -- her hair marred by a bad, blonde dye job that is inexplicably wet for most of the film. Frankly, she's the worst part of the film altogether and was obviously hired because you've at least heard her name before and because she'd also do the brief nude scene.
There's little else worth mentioning about Spanish Judges aside from some baffling supporting characters, each more stupid than the next, plus a notation that though much time passes in the film, it's always night. Oddly, it also takes place in L.A. Where's the sun and babes, Oz?
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