Robo Cop-Out

This ultimately pointless little excursion into perversion starts out promisingly enough: desperate ex-cokester (Balthazar Getty) with pregnant wife working the night shift at a sleazy gas station seeks something, ANYthing, to offer escape from his dreary, drugless, thrill-less existence. Enter Peter Weller (Robo Cop himself!), driving the sleek car, wearing the sleek clothes, walkin' the sleek walk and talkin' the sleekest talk poor Balthazar's ever heard.

Naturally, he follows his new bud off into the night and is taken on a depraved journey that perversely fills his void. In no time he's back on the blow, of course, and he's also addicted to his new best friend, who continuously ups the ante (best friend that he is) by exposing Balthazar to deeper, more depraved kicks. (There's a lot of s&m activity, people suspended by hooks, that sort of thing, and there's a fight club scenario, and of course there has to be Russian Roulette - what would depravity be without Russian Roulette, I ask you.)

Robo's doing this, you see (or rather he TELLS us) so Little Balthy can hit rock bottom and rise from his ashes, purified and reborn, blah blah blah. This would be good, if it actually happened - catharsis is Number One in MY book. However, by the time this sordid sleaze plays itself to its crazed conclusion, nothing is really changed, there is no real catharsis for our 'hero' (and I use the word very loosely here), and we don't even know whether Robo has actually committed the murders that have been taking place throughout the proceedings. By this time, though, guess what? You don't care! You just want to crawl into a clean, safe bed somewhere and sleep it off.