Even Morgan Freeman seems to be parodying himself as the forensic psychologist who joins the hunt for the serial killer who has abducted his niece. Assisting him is the kick-boxing surgeon, Ashley Judd, freshly escaped from the killer's clutches and ready to use her first hand experience to trap him.
The most disappointing thing about Kiss The Girls is that such empirical knowledge doesn't even figure in the final analysis. When the police are close to nailing their man, they find that he has helpfully pasted the walls of his apartment with newspaper clippings detailing his crimes - how charitable that the criminally insane should incorporate the needs of a desperate director into their idea of interior decoration. And when the identity of the murderer is finally revealed, it turns out to be completely arbitrary, as though the screenwriter had stuck a pin in the list of supporting characters in order to contrive an unexpected outcome.
Even those who do not take offence at such incoherence will surely be rattled by the picture's near misogynistic exploitation of its defenceless victims.