Main cast: John Travolta (Frank Morrison), Vince Vaughn (Rick Barnes), Teri Polo (Susan Morrison Barnes), Matthew O’Leary (Danny Morrison), Steve Buscemi (Ray Coleman), and Chris Ellis (Detective Warren)
Director: Harold Becker

John Travolta’s back in another dumb movie that threatens to melt my brain into a puddle of slime. Packed with cheap sentimental Daddy-luvs-ya sentiments and atrocious dialogues, Domestic Disturbance is a movie that will drive even die-hard family value conservatives fleeing with tissues clogged up their bleeding nostrils.

I have no idea how Steve Buscemi gets roped into this mess. Wait, I guess playing kooky roles in indie movies can’t pay the rent that well. Oh well.

Travolta plays Frank Bore-rison, a divorcee who loves his son Danny (who exhibits Frank’s innate ability to irritate) like forever, but why can’t the wife see that, yo? Wife leaves “simple, poor” Frank for rich sophisticated Rick, but Rick turns out to be scum. The male unemployed bums in the audience cheer – serve that bitch right to marry a better man! – and Frank rushes to rescue Danny who stumbles upon Rick’s scumminess.

But nobody believes Frank. I don’t blame them. What to do? Why, a one-man show, of course, where Rick ends up using that wood chipper in a Fargo-inspired scene on both Frank and his obnoxious kid. No, wait, that’s just me. Bore-ison wins, wins back his wife and son, and seals the whole irritating mess with some trite, hackneyed speech about family and daddy-knows-best.

Hemorrhage, anyone?