Juliette Lewis

Profane, hallucinogenic, and wickedly satirical, Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers mainlined a message from hell (a.k.a. modern America, as seen by Stone) into mall theatres and multiplexes.

Absent the electricity of live-wire live performance, the play's paucity of depth becomes more obvious. What's left to carry the day are a nasty streak of black comedy and the redoubtable acting ensemble.

When this thriller has to turn the screws of its climax, its fundamental stupidity surfaces.