A new cop partner from the K-9 unit -- a tousled Briard with a sweet tooth for jellyrolls -- brings out the witty side of Chuck Norris: "You ate my chicken, you mangy mutt!" Bomb-building white supremacists bring out the more familiar gritty side: "Captain, pick up every known racist scumbag in the area!" You might have thought they stopped making movies as oafish as this one with the phase-out of the Saturday-matinee serial. You couldn't have been wronger. The ineptitude, while often achieving hilarity, only infrequently reaches an altitude of dreamlike absurdity: once the police have determined that the bomb is somewhere in the limo with representatives of three major faiths in full regalia (what a shame Buñuel had to miss this), they try to open the car doors, but can't; they try to break the windows, but can't ("Must be bulletproof!"); then they loose the explosives-sniffing dog, who gets distracted chasing a sniper instead; then and only then does it occur to Norris to peek under the car. "Here's the bomb!" he cries triumphantly. But now what? The red wire or the blue? (1995) — Duncan Shepherd
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