Eastwood's last outing as Dirty Harry is some goofy-ass fun. Jim Carrey does Axl Rose, Liam Neeson has a sleazy ponytail, Patricia Clarkson sets out to nab her some Clint, Pauline Kael gets her comeuppance for the review she wrote of "Dirty Harry" in the New Yorker, and Harry FINALLY gets to wield a harpoon gun, because that .357 magnum is for pussies anyway. The remote-control carbomb chase is an absurd delight.
A hackneyed and tired coda to something which should have terminated on its first bravura outing. By entry number five, the reactionary fire is out and there's little left apart from a star-turn on autopilot wading through a gimcrack script peppered with the kind of deadening novelty then familiar in mainstream filmmaking - gadgetry, ludicrous weaponry, a kung-fu sidekick, et al. A dead loss.