From its inept cinematography to its barrage of hackneyed suspense contrivances and lead-weighted dialogue, “88 Minutes” is made watchable only by Al Pacino’s mannered performance as FBI forensic psychiatrist and college professor Dr. Jack Gramm.
On the execution day of “Seattle Slayer” Jon Forster, the serial killer responsible for murdering Dr. Gramm’s younger sister years earlier, the good Doctor gets a series of cell phone messages informing him of the number of minutes he has left to live.
“Tic Toc Doc” is the often-repeated tagline the computer-voiced suspect uses to taunt Pacino’s character as he gets into various confrontations with femme fatale students about his methods for convincing the jury of Foster’s guilt.
The recent murder of a student the night before puts an air of suspicion around Dr. Gramm. Faxes are sent, a car goes boom, and yet another female victim gets strung up by one leg before Gramm’s 88 minutes end with the kind of climax you’d expect from a television thriller.
Okay, so Al went slumming and all he got was a paycheck and movie for his fans to ignore. All is forgiven. Just don’t do it again Al. Please don’t do it again.
Rated R. 108 mins.
