The Last Man

Feels more like a thought experiment than a fully developed story.

The result is a Brooks Brothers comedy -- part Albert, part Mel.

By the time Arnott's whining monologues begin to number in the dozens, the notion of a swift apocalypse seems like a good idea.

Ralston gets solid performances out of his cast, and the film has a surprisingly polished look. But in the end, there isn't much to it.

Scenario is ripe for subversive humor, but Ralston never even questions the superiority of the genetically privileged.

Ryan, the bodacious Seven of Nine on "Star Trek Voyager," is the only excuse to suffer through writer-director Harry Ralston's feeble comedy.

Fat, homely men who feel they have been wrongly underrepresented in underwear ads should flock to The Last Man.