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Virtually sweeping the 1991 Razzie Awards, taking home the trophies for Worst Actor, Worst Picture, and Worst Screenplay, this brain-dead piece of tripe tries to graft the obnoxious stage persona of stand-up comedian Andrew Dice Clay onto a rock & roll-flavored detective film. The effort fails spectacularly, for a variety of reasons. Among them are the fact that Clay's not much of an actor, that his act is strictly for misogynistic frat boys, and that the script reaches new heights of thick-witted, dunce-cap imbecility, its idea of funny being to name its hero after a cool car. Plus there's the conceit that the music industry needs its own detective, that he'd make enough scratch to pay Sunset Boulevard rent, that if there were such a creature, anybody in their right mind would turn to this guy, the village idiot at worst, a hanger-on and wannabe at best. There is one funny bit, and here it is so that the movie need not be experienced firsthand: A Howard Stern-style radio shock jock played by Gilbert Gottfried is murdered on the air, but listeners mistake it for one of the vile-spewing host's comic routines. Clearly, a lot of money was spent here; The Adventures of Ford Fairlane looks great, director Renny Harlin capturing some snazzy, colorful images, but despite his apparent eye for composition and hiring terrific cinematographers, Harlin has yet to make a great film. His pictures look incredible, but the same can be said of many commercials that are more artistically fulfilling than his work to date, and this is one of his worst.