Chris Rock yells. Anthony Hopkins whispers. Bad guys chase good guys. Good guys chase bad guys. Good guys find nuclear bomb. Bad guys get their comeuppance. And that’s the best I can say about Bad Company, even though it’s directed by Joel Schumacher, a filmmaker I’ve admired in the past for such fine movies as The Client and Falling Down.

The worst thing about this misguided action flick relates to Rock’s (Down to Earth) stereotypical performance. As a surviving identical twin with "street smarts" who’s recruited to finish his murdered brother’s CIA assignment, this talented stand-up comic stoops to a feet-don’t-fail-me-now acting level reminiscent of African-American portrayals in films of the 30s and 40s. In one particularly degrading scene, Rock’s character cowers and prays while his new colleagues fight bravely against the villains. Yes, the other brother is depicted as courageous – but he’s not the focus of this movie. So much for progress in exploding media stereotypes.

"Chris’ comedy is so outrageous and he pushes the envelope so much, but he is truly a gentleman and highly intelligent, not just on a street level but on a real level," claims Schumacher. With all due respect, Mr. Schumacher, I think Rock's intelligence might be in question after agreeing to co-star in Bad Company.

As for Hopkins, he appears to put little effort into his role as a veteran CIA agent assigned to transform Rock’s street punk into a sophisticated and savvy spy in just nine days. Could this Oscar-winner (The Silence of the Lambs) have been uncomfortable with Rock’s tendency to improvise dialogue? Maybe. Hopkins says, "I can throw in a few one-liners but I don’t like to carry on improvisation throughout scenes. The danger in that is you can lose focus to the point where the scene never seems to end."

And what about those bad guys? Sorry, but they’re not scary enough for me. Peter Stormare, so convincing as the crazy Russian astronaut in Armageddon and the mute criminal in Fargo, shows little enthusiasm here as a Russian black market contact. Perhaps he found lines like "Welcome to my church – where we worship money" too ridiculous to sink his teeth into. Although Matthew Marsh (Spy Game) projects evil potential in the role of a freelance trouble-maker, his character is not developed enough. I overheard one viewer complaining in the lobby, "It takes more than lack of a shave to make movie villains believable."

Where are the women, you ask? Oh, they’re included -- taking showers, breaking up with boyfriends, assisting Hopkins, or being kidnapped. Bad Company is definitely not a "chick flick." Come to think of it, this appalling film offers nothing of value for anyone else either.

(Released by Touchstone Pictures and rated "PG-13" for intense sequences of violent action, some sensuality and language.)