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The only possible surprise in The Tuxedo would be an extended demonstration of what was once Chan's trademark, the daffily choreographed kineticism forbidden of late by either his own age or the scruples of story editors.
One of the worst movies of the year.
This overproduced and generally disappointing effort isn't likely to rouse the Rush Hour crowd.
This movie is about the worst thing Chan has done in the United States.
It's drab. It's uninteresting. It squanders Chan's uniqueness; it could even be said to squander Jennifer Love Hewitt!
For the first time in Chan's glorious career, credits for various fx-oriented skills far outnumber those for stunts and fight choreography, always in the past the beating, thumping heart of every Chan movie.
A cute idea, miserably executed.
Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker? Great. Jackie Chan and Owen Wilson? Cool. Jackie Chan and... Jennifer Love Hewitt? What the f**k?
The Tuxedo is sort of like a film that might have been made from a song by Burt Bacharach; its central conceit is odd, implausible, even a bit silly, but one can hardly begrudge it those elements when the thing plays so beautifully.
... The Tuxedo is an amusing diversion.
The extras on this disk are, unfortunately, like the film -- pretty forgetable.
Both Chan and Hewitt need to have some serious talks with their agents.
Apesar de Jackie Chan ser sempre simpático, não há uma única coreografia de luta interessante ao longo de todo o filme, o que é decepcionante. Além disso, Hewitt está insuportável.
This film could have been for Chan what The Mask was for Jim Carrey. Unfortunately, it will be more like what Leonard Part 6 was for Bill Cosby.
Chan's ballet-like martial arts moves don't disappoint, and his nice-guy, fun-loving attitude is highly contagious.
Why was this movie made? Honestly. I mean, who thought it'd be a good idea to slap Jackie Chan into a high-tech tuxedo in spy-movie spoof?
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