Thanks for subscribing! Look out for your first newsletter in your inbox soon!
The best of Time Out straight to your inbox
We help you navigate a myriad of possibilities. Sign up for our newsletter for the best of the city.
By entering your email address you agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy and consent to receive emails from Time Out about news, events, offers and partner promotions.
Awesome, you're subscribed!
Thanks for subscribing! Look out for your first newsletter in your inbox soon!
By entering your email address you agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy and consent to receive emails from Time Out about news, events, offers and partner promotions.
Awesome, you're subscribed!
Thanks for subscribing! Look out for your first newsletter in your inbox soon!
By entering your email address you agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy and consent to receive emails from Time Out about news, events, offers and partner promotions.
When, oh when, will people realize that a one-joke TV sketch can't sustain a feature-length film? Seen in small increments on Comedy Central's Primetime Glick, Martin Short's obese, unctuous talk-show host could be downright hilarious. Here, stuck in a dim-witted narrative about murdered starlets and sudden fame at the Toronto Film Festival, he's just another single-celled idea stretched way beyond its breaking point. An unfunny parody of celebrity culture that's infatuated with the star system it's supposed to send up, Glick manages to be both disingenuous and deadeningly dull.
Advertising
Been there, done that? Think again, my friend.
By entering your email address you agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy and consent to receive emails from Time Out about news, events, offers and partner promotions.
🙌 Awesome, you're subscribed!
Thanks for subscribing! Look out for your first newsletter in your inbox soon!