Kevin Costner plays Mr B a corporate head from Oregon who in his spare time, kills people, randomly, egged on by his demonic alter ego clumsily brought to life by William Hurt who often sits in the back of Mr B's car. As if we were too dense to be able to conjure up an alter ego, the director insists on providing the figure of one played an A-list actor. Killing for the two of them is a kind of addiction, we are led to believe.

When Mr B alias the 'Thumbprint Killer' carries out one murder, a man across the street witnesses Mr B in action through a window, and then sends him photos in a blackmail action. Mr B meets the man who in exchange for keeping quiet, wants to come along on Mr B's next murdering trip (how lucky that Mr B's blackmailer is also a psycho). Meanwhile Demi Moore pops up as a ruthless female detective out to track down The Thumbprint Killer, but of course she can't be just concentrating on solving the case she has to be trying to sort out her divorce as well.

Mr Brooks as a film is pretty cack-handed and has a tired, hamfisted air about it. We're meant to believe that Mr B likes killing people as a form of addiction, but it seems pretty unbelievable that a high-flying businessman would have the motive, time or the opportunity also to be a serial killer without arousing any form of suspicion.

Added to that, Costner's alter-ego would have been better realised by a narrative voice in Costner's head rather than the perceived need to have William Hurt playing the role for real. I mean sitting in the the car like he does, it's lucky of course that there's always a spare seat for him.

The film takes itself seriously but unintentional laughs follow fairly swiftly from the outset, as the film becomes more and more implausible.

For Mr Brooks read Mr Boring.