Bright Lights, Big City

Jay McInerney's novel Bright Lights, Big City was hailed as a portrait of the vacuous, coked-out '80s generation. The movie is simply vacuous. The script, also written by Mc-Inerney, strips away the novel's witty and ironic voice. What is left is a vapid yet sentimental cautionary tale about the evils of drugs. Of course, drugs are terrible. But so is Bright Lights, Big City. [1 Apr 1988, p.C1]

The picture isn't terrible, just terribly dull. It feels dated, especially in the scenes that "explain" the hero and show his redemption - the banality comes down on you like drizzle.