Who would have thought you'd see the day when Han Solo's Millenium Falcon may have needed one of those natty orange disabled stickers.

Or the moment when Indiana Jones realised his hips might thank him if he put down his whip and took a nice desk job at the British Museum.

Harrison Ford is in his sixties - an age in which his CIA hotshot Jack Ryan may be thinking about a nice cushy job far away from drug cartels and terrorist killers.

At this stage in their careers, most former idols, such as Ford, begin playing roles where they humorously play up their advancing years as opposed to trying to defy them.

The trouble is Ford isn't really much of a comedy actor. So the wisdom here is to pair up with another actor who isn't funny - Josh Hartnett.

The result is two straightmen in the lead roles in what's supposed to pass for a comedy - an old Ernie Wise and a young Ernie Wise, if you like.

Knackered LA cop Joe Galivan (Ford) struggles to make an arrest when he's not trying to make a go of his comatose estate agent business on the side.

Hartnett is a rookie whose mind is on the Hollywood career he's never going to have while he has a sideline teaching yoga to Valley Girls.

A vicious club shooting has the pair trawling LA's dark underside and all the while Bruce Greenwood's Internal Affairs investigator is on Joe's back.

Shelton, whose golf comedy Tin Cup was a veritable hole-in-one, drives this sorry mess deep into a distant bunker.

Ford straining for a light comedy touch looks in deeper trouble than Indiana in his bleakest hour, while it's never explained why Hartnett's in the movies. At all.

Unintentionally hilarious moment must be Joe's bizarre love scene (cue donut and pair of sun specs) with Lena Olin, who by now must have a contract out on her agent.

For a watch-glancing two hours, Ford and Hartnett strive vainly for some sort of chemistry, but it appears the former's career high is behind him and the latter's never was.

Tim Evans