Scientists really didn't care about contamination yet again in this direct-to-black-and-white sequel to The Fly. They even knew a fly was in their lab and they did nothing. Nothing.
About the only positives are Vincent Price and the fly's costume.
That Groucho Marx guy sure is a buzzkill.
Horny college students on a train during New Year's Eve should have been edgier. I don't know. It was tame and a master of none, BUT it was set on a train with occasional neon pink light hallway shots and it had David Copperfield performing magic.
Actually, David Copperfield should have been the killer. Now, that'd be one slight of hand worth watching.
The last fifteen minute showdown with Jamie Lee Curtis was wonderful.
Let's play Godard bingo, y'all!
a man narrating about deep philosophical things
people smoking in cars
a man hitting a woman
repetitive sudden dramatic music
a male protagonist who is demure and never laughs
a fedora and trenchcoat
a quote for the entire film (I shall fight so that failure is possible)
a man lecturing a woman on very important things (tm)
a bird's eye point of view of walking around traffic
a naked or near naked woman