Not that the idea was any good to begin with. Two hapless simpletons win a weekend fishing trip; the humor comes from them destroying everything they encounter, from a marina full of priceless cruisers to a renovated resort hotel. With Glover playing Scooby to Pesci's Shaggy, this is another of those movies that portrays lower-middle-class working people as pet imbeciles; the two middle-aged stars are reduced to flailing, grimacing, and bugging their eyes like Moe, Larry, and Curly compacted into two overachieving Stooges. To share their humiliation, the movie rounds up such capable screen presences as Rosanna Arquette, Lynn Whitfield, Willie Nelson (as a fishing guru), and Carol Kane, and gives them dialogue and actions that might pass for comedy in some joy-deprived post-apocalyptic wasteland.

Apart from the actors' hyperactive discomfort, the movie is notable mainly for the unholy, crafted-by-numbers precision of Jill Mazursky Cody and Jeffrey Abrams' script. The pair follows every formula for high-concept screenwriting (backstory, exotic villainy, action beats every five minutes), except the one that calls for genuine wit and imagination. "Somethin' stinks in here!" gripes Joe in one of the movie's cleverest moments. Retorts Gus, "It ain't me!" Their sense of smell wasn't working nearly that well when they signed on for this tub of chum.