By Michael Sauter
Updated April 12, 2002 at 04:00 AM EDT

As two thirtysomething single girls whose idea of female empowerment is blackmailing some London bank robbers, Driver and McCormack have a certain madcap appeal. But they’re wasted in a generally witless caper comedy of errors. When Driver gets knocked on her bum while firing an automatic weapon, the movie merely feels tired and trite. But when the gun just keeps on shooting and shredding the set decoration, it starts getting downright annoying. In the pitch meeting they probably sold this as Bridget Jones’s Diary meets Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. If only it were. C-

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