Master P's multimedia empire continues to expand with Foolish, his fourth movie in a year and the second, after I Got The Hook-Up, to be accidentally released to theaters. Of its 97 minutes, about half are devoted to UPN fixture Eddie Griffin's stand-up routine on such side-splitting topics as kicking bitches in the ass and other bits swiped from Andrew Dice Clay (who makes a cameo appearance). The rest of Foolish is padded out with footage of priests, middle-aged women, and other squirming white folks helplessly succumbing to laughter, fellow comedians whose pitifully lame acts pale in comparison to his own, and some vague, incomprehensible filler. Griffin and P play siblings—one a comic, the other a gangster—in trouble with Italian mob kingpin Clay after pulling a prank that resulted in his cousin's death. What kind of trouble is never made clear, and how it relates to P's subsequent efforts to stage a comedy showcase for his brother remains a mystery. The only thing certain about Foolish is that it's a transaction, as poorly made and depressing as the worst blaxploitation, that's designed to turn a profit on P's die-hard fan base while parceling out precious little entertainment. The miserable production values—the cardboard sets rival a Little Rascals talent show—and P's stone-faced delivery are merely amateurish, but as a vanity project for Griffin, Foolish is downright appalling. Worse than the racism, misogyny, and homophobia running through his routine are Foolish's periodic attempts to make him look sympathetic by dragging out his kindly, soon-to-be-dead grandmother. When that happens, the film plummets from cheap to bankrupt.