The dialogue is deeply embarrassing and the plot — meandering around a meaningless
love triangle, ignoring
anything like humanity in its hasty sketches posing as characters, and painting all
of it like the first two stanzas
of any John Cougar Mellencamp song — likewise.
Because I barely remember
anything from any other movie in this series (I had to go back and reread my reviews, not just to refresh my memory, but to affirm that I'd even seen the previous films), everything that wraps up loose threads, the two (count»em) times characters are forced to give Biblical genealogies to the probable delight
of ardent fans, the deadening nonsense involving
love triangles, all that jazz, is exactly like watching paint dry.