Let's Kill All the Lawyers | Chicago Reader

Let's Kill All the Lawyers

By the second scene it's clear that this message comedy is catharsis filmmaking at its worst. I'd lay odds that writer-director Ron Senkowski , who seems to have a big chip on his shoulder, is a law-school dropout. He's blind to the problems in this incoherent, pseudomystical narrative, in which a fantasy-style woman leads a New Age retreat for spiritually diminished attorneys—as part of a plot to rid the world of them. An overlong opening scene showing a lawyer in the ancient world delivering a volley of self-deprecating puns that could be of interest only to law students with one-track senses of humor was obviously made separately, then tacked on. But it sets the tone for a story whose main characters, antitheses of each other, are both unlikable, though Senkowski seems to intend that we admire one of them—a young intern having doubts about pursuing his profession because his mentor is such an asshole.

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