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Rating: Perhaps the worst movie ever.
We know for sure that it is one of the many remakes of "D.o.a." from 1950, an excellent noir directed by Rudolph Maté (so the responsibles for this crap even had the merit of ruining a good film). "Nonsense reigns" is the motto on which this film is based, which fans of the Lino Banfi / Alvaro Vitali duo would call a "third-rate subproduct," and rightly so. The plot is certainly the most tangled heap of nonsense that it is possible to even imagine, where every situation is invariably resolved or supported by a pounding soundtrack, perennially exhibiting guitar riffs in abundance...
A series of murders shock a university and its small literary universe. A professor (Dennis Quaid), a former prodigy writer, is reluctantly involved. The first victim is indeed the best student of old Dennis, who, like a good master, will mourn him with serene melancholy until he discovers that the young man was sleeping with his wife, who is also the next immediate victim in the blood trail. The main suspect and at the same time a victim (he already knows he has a substance in his blood that will kill him in a few hours), the professor will attempt, dragging himself like a zombie in the academic filth, to piece together the puzzle, helped by a young and available student (Meg Ryan) whom he will also sleep with, in a romantic and poetic farewell to life, while the corpse of his still beloved spouse is still warm.
The story, more than improbable and built on idiocies and plots that don't hold up, will drag wearily towards a twilight and metaphysical finale, with the professor, released by the police, heading towards the exit of the station and at the same time towards death, a bombastic and pretentious conclusion to a stupid and poorly made film. If you add to this that the maniac/psychopath in the film is played by Daniel Stern, the stupid thief who paired with Joe Pesci in "Home Alone" (definitely kudos to the casting office!), you will have a much clearer picture of the situation. But that is not enough, and in fact, here is the final gem: "D.O.A. - Dead on Arrival," an abomination from 1988, is a film poorly written and even worse directed, an "opera" made four hands by the director duo Annabel Jankel/Rocky Morton, so it took two glorious idiots to put this masterpiece together. Kudos to the two who certainly constitute the two testicles of the same penis. If anyone has seen it or will see it even after this heartfelt appeal of mine (perhaps driven by a hint of masochism) and thinks they know something worse, let me know right away. It would be a great relief for me to learn of the existence of a worse nightmare, even to not start thinking that I am destined to monopolize all the crap that hovers at night on the main TV channels. In short: don't watch it! Avoid it like the plague! Destroy every copy!
Someone will say, however, that such a film contributed to the love between Dennis Quaid and the very young Meg Ryan, gossip that made America dream. To these, I respond: who the hell cares?
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