21, in which Kevin Spacey lecherously sizes up a line of female strippers at a Vegas casino, now serves as the greatest
Robert Luketic’s 21 is a mini-Ocean’s Eleven about, and for, people who are the age of its title.
This bumbling exercise in redundant replication is as disagreeably lukewarm as a heavily trafficked municipal baby pool.
It’s sad but not surprising that the best part of this Analyze That package is the dorky mob game in the features
The film is burned by endless slow patches and, ultimately, feels painfully routine.