Okay, here's the deal. I know lots of things seem like good ideas on paper. The Edsel must have seemed like one hell of a slick ride...on paper. Lionel Richie's comeback album must have seemed like a can't miss hit...on paper. And IBM licensing DOS from Bill Gates without a back-end deal must have seemed like a money-saver...on paper.

I wish I could have been a fly on the wall when the presentation was made for doing the film Turbulence. Then, I would know which clueless committee I could blame for this stinkhole of a film. I mean, Lawdy Miss Clawdy, what in tarnation could have possessed this many people to believe that Turbulence warranted an eight figure budget and a fat spot on theater screens across North America?

I mean, even the marketing people can't figure out how to sell this piece of schlock. One quote says, "like Speed on an airplane!" Well, I thought Speed was supposed to be Die Hard on a bus. Passenger 57 was supposed to be Die Hard on a plane. Under Siege was Die Hard on a boat. Executive Decision was Die Hard on a plane. Attention, ad execs, try this: "Turbulence is like Ishtar without the sand!" "It's like Last Action Hero without the muscles!"

Or how about this? "It's like YOU...leaving the theater, seven bucks lighter!"

Jeez.

Okay. Obligatory plot summary: There's a psycho rapist guy with eyebrows like pinball flippers, and he's on this plane. He makes the hot licks for flight attendant Lauren Holly. And to make a long story painlessly shorter, she is the only one who can stop him from killing us all!

Man, I wish Lauren Holly had done any other movie besides this one. She's a talented actress, if "Picket Fences" is any testimony. She's great to look at, has a flair for comedy, and she can do a nice dramatic scene when prompted. She must have a crackhead for an agent, or there must have been a killer paycheck for this thing, 'cause I know she was beat to hell with all the action scenes they threw at her to compensate for lack of plot.

A word of advice from the Doc: Lauren, honey, leave the crap like this to folks like Shannon Tweed or that American Ninja chick, Cynthia Rothrock. You're better than this. Be a tad more selective. Your husband Jim should be proof enough that mucho money doesn't mean bueno movie. Ask him about The Cable Guy.

And what happened to Ray Liotta? He started out so smooth in Something Wild and Field of Dreams. He just can't decide what he wants to be when he grows up. He's a sensitive doctor in Article 99, he's a jungle prisoner in No Escape, he's a sensitive medical student in Dominic and Eugene. He's a freaking loon in Turbulence.

Ray. Babe. Dust off your textbook from Drama 101. Right now, you using three emotions. There's Ray Liotta, plain. There's Ray Liotta, whispering. And there's Ray Liotta...LOUD.

If I was deaf, I could tell which mode you were in. You're in normal voice, your eyebrows jump like cats on a griddle. You're whispering, your eyebrows go Cro-Magnon. You're loud, your eyebrows fly up like a geriatric's thermostat. Go to New York and do theater for a while. Refine yourself a bit. Then come back and act. Don't yell, don't mumble. Act. And quit playing these caffeine freaks. Tell your agent to get you a gig in a good independent film, with John Sayles or Jim Jarmusch. Folks will see a new side of you, and then, you're back in the big time.

The director, little Robby Butler, must be proud of himself, too. If he can't get a good dramatic scene, he can blow something up. Blow it up real good. He can run a plane through a billboard instead of inspiring something in actors. It's too bad "The A-Team" is off the air. This guy might have had a promising career on Mexican television. Hey, if KISS goes back on tour, you could blow up huge amps in every major city in the world! There's a thought. Just do us all a favor. Don't make another feature for a while.

Friends and neighbors, save your money. Buy a discount copy of Young Frankenstein and make nummy noises. Rent an electric scooter and chase teens at the mall. Send a check to a shareware programmer. Just don't spend a cent on Turbulence. If you have to, if you must, if you can't resist...take seven dollars to the bathroom, and flush it down the toilet. That way, you'll get the same feeling without wasting two hours.