The Chronicles of Riddick is a dazzling sci-fi epic that will have Pitch Black devotees marking their calendars for the third installment. But director David Twohy's sequel is unlikely to strike a chord with those unfamiliar with Riddick's world
"Chelsea Walls," named for the fabled New York Hotel favored by artists and iconoclasts that is the film's setting, bounces all over the place as it follows a bunch of uninteresting artsy types whose output is even more uninteresting.
Forget those Shakespearean themes of greed, lust and ambition and enjoy a fun package of satire, nostalgia, amusing performances and rousing '70s hits. And hold the fries. In its fractured Bardian tale of husband-and-wife greasy spoon drones who murder their way out of hamburger joint hell into fast food mini-moguldom, this comedy, until it finally runs out of steam (if not plot), consistently entertains and tickles.