A Frenchman directing mostly Germans speaking awkward phonetic English--that's just one of the problems here, but it's a big one, since so many of the actors here stiltedly handle dialogue that would be problematic under ideal circumstances. The only person here who seems to have a firm grip on what he's doing is Alan Bates, who chooses to play his media-mogul villain role for arch comedy. As a result, he seems to be in a different movie, so at least this one doesn't embarrass him like the luckless other performers. Jennifer Beals has the right droning, narcotic quality in scenes where she's the hypnotic face/voice of sinister advertisements, but elsewhere she has to rely on her acting abilities, which are limited as usual. Jan Niklas has apparently been excellent elsewhere, but he's dreadful here as the noirishly cynical investigating hero. Andrew McCarthy has exactly one brief scene as an assassin--he does get special billing, but it's neither a cameo or supporting role, just a straight-up bit part (I hope he fired his agent after this).Many people have said this film doesn't make much sense. and I'll have to take their word for it--it's so turgid I might well have not paying attention if/when there were elements that did somehow explain things. There's an inexplicable suicide epidemic in a faintly futuristic Berlin. Like Francois Truffault before him (in "Fahrenheit 451"), Chabrol has no particular feel for sci-fi or dystopian fantasy, despite OK production design. He doesn't even try to build suspense around the possibility of sudden violent death at any moment, and the deaths when they occur are indifferently staged.) There are ridiculous scenes in a quasi-fascist quasi-punk club where everyone dresses in designer black; they dance like performance artists trying cluelessly to imitate a mosh pit. There's also one of those hysterically pretentious sex scenes in which naked gyrations (Beals no doubt using a body double) are intercut with archival footage of nuclear explosions, war crimes, etc. Oh, the humanity. Things get even sillier when the protagonists go to a bizarre "resort"--hence the retitling "Club Extinction"--that's like Club Med meets Jonestown meets "The Prisoner."Unfortunately, the whole film is so misconceived and lifeless there's little camp entertainment value to its mess. One among "Dr. M's" many misfortunes is that it was filmed in 1989, and the script makes much of tensions between Wall-separated East and West--but of course that division had collapsed by the time it came out.

I wanted to like this and I did for what it could have been and not the sorry mess it turned out to be ..... I even enjoyed the auto smash it turned into because all the ingredients were there but didnt get used ...Brave concept ..crap realization .... but I do love B Grade sci Fi so I got off on it for the crap it was ... If you like the Outer Limits this one is for you sorta like "the boy and his dog" that thought too much and tried too hard ... woof

Good idea for a moody futuristic thriller, nice art direction and location photage of Berlin cannot help this european movie mess. Famous french director Chabrol is at a loss with german actors speaking english and lovely Jennifer Beals given no direction at all. It all seems totally unrehearsed one-take filming. Bad sound and lighting do not help. A chance to make an atmospheric Blade Runneresque thriller went down the E.U. drain. A dull waste with interesting ideas worth a remake.

I'm still scratching my head over this one. A "forgotten" flick, filmed in 1989, Club Extinction (or Dr. M on video) has lots of atmosphere courtesy of French director Chabrol, but the choppy editing and mystifying plot exposition leaves the viewer exasperated and more than a little confused. It seems that the people of Berlin are committing suicide at an alarming rate and no one seems to know why. A Big Brother-style multimedia conglomerate and a Jim Jones-ish vacation spa figure into the muddled events.Meant as a condemnation of the audacious power of the media, this boondoggling film fails on most counts- however, it is certainly odd enough to keep one watching. Alan Bates plays the media messiah, the lovelier than lovely Jennifer Beals is his adopted daughter, and Jan Niklas plays the detective and Beals' love interest. I don't know if any one of them to this day understand what the heck this was all about, but perhaps they can look up Andrew McCarthy for feedback. He was smart enough to show up for about 53 seconds worth of screen time and then very wisely disappear.Summing up- fans of odd B sci-fi may actually find something of interest here. Problem is, I'm one of those fans, and I didn't. Oh well, choose your poison. Two generous stars (out of five) on the Corkymeter.