Should you go to this film—and subsequently fall into a post-cinematic depression that causes you to roam your neighborhood naked singing show tunes—don’t say I didn’t warn you. Martin Lawrence seems to be on a quest to show just how unfunny he is as an FBI agent who goes undercover as a 60-year-old, 350-pound woman. To do this, he buries himself under loads of latex and sports a grating voice that rings of bad asthma. There’s no need for you to see this, but moviegoers are going in droves anyway. This film made me sick.