***MAJOR SPOILERS***
Yasmine Bleeth probably was casted to make you pay for an entrance ticket, but since that assignment has been accomplished when the film begins, she is promptly killed of. A rookie police officer (Jason Gedric) has to share his body with the "soul" of a murdered colleague (Gary Hudson) who happened to be dabbling in mysterious eastern "arts". He (they), together with his widow (Kim Delaney), go after the killer.
The plot is unbelievable, and even with the utmost effort of suspension of disbelief you cannot bring yourself to go along with this drivel. In comparison the plot of The Sixth Sense although also not an example of realism - is made utterly digestible. None of the actors seem to believe this story also, which most of the time results in wooden, painful expressions as if they were thinking 'I can't believe these words are passing my lips'. Neither can the viewer. The development of the plot is so inept that the viewer is always at least three steps ahead. So, no dawning realizations, no surprises, no excitement.
I suppose it depends on your attitude, but this movie can be entertaining, be it for the wrong reasons: once you have adjusted to the fact that it is not going to get any better (soon, or ever), you can relax and look at the contrived efforts of the actors to salvage this farce with gentle cynicism an be (very) mildly amused in the process.
