Catwoman

REVIEW
Maybe there's something to this whole "gay mafia" conspiracy after all: Hollywood has gone and made a film that makes Batman & Robin look straight. Halle Berry stars as meek graphic artist Patience Philips, who's working on an ad campaign for Beau-Line skin cream. The cream, of course, is infected and makes customers' skin fall off -- yes, it's a fashion conspiracy that can only be broken by a superhero. Luckily, Patience is knocked off by henchmen, sniffs some kitty breath (or is it Mighty Mouse cocaine?) and becomes Catwoman, a leather queen prone to bad one-liners and possessing a weakness for Benjamin Bratt (a cop who can't tell the difference between Halle Berry in glasses and Halle Berry in leather -- shame!). This whole mess, with much more interest in costume and set design than anything else onscreen, was directed by the oddly-monikered Pitof, who we can only assume is a drag queen upset about his lousy stage name. Why else would anyone be so hell-bent on remaking the luscious Sharon Stone into an Aldrich-era Bette Davis clone? As the villain with perfectly hard skin, Stone eventually faces off in a catfight (natch) with Berry that only highlights how low these two talents are slumming. There's seemingly no connection to the Batman legacy, with Catwoman having lost her villainous status and even Selina Kyle's name changed to protect the innocent. Cheap special effects, overuse of ugly wide-angle close-ups, and a general contempt for the audience make this a must-avoid, at least until Chumley and Carlota get around to roasting it.