Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers is a passionately mad, frequently bad, passably interesting, probably unmissable movie.

In Stone's last virtuoso display piece, JFK, the technical fireworks served a firm dramatic purpose. Here they get horribly out of hand. The flimsy, derivative storyline becomes almost obliterated.

Stone's talent works well on the eye, seldom on the brain. There's no coherent argument to follow in his film; nothing lasts long lest viewers' attention span parts company with the excitement under the strain of having to follow a thesis.

A big, dazzling, monstrously violent comedy that is probably the most extreme movie ever made in Hollywood. Psychedelic and assaultive, it's like a fever dream snatched from the skull of Charles Manson.