I.Q. (1994) 1/2* The title is the only IQ the writers and director ever had. Relentlessly stupid avalanche of inanity with Meg Ryan trying to look cute, dress Whistler's mother chic, and act smart. That's the worst of it, but there's more: Walter Matthau desecrates the memory of Einstein, repeating his most cliche'd lines wherever inappropriate in daily conversation; daily conversation that primarily involves his moronic sciobabble philosophical discussions with his friends about matters as transcendent as badminton and, of course, how to get a drivers license; friends who are supposed to be the "smartest guys in the world," but are instead a dropout surfer's conception of what German genuises should be-their main goal is to get a convertible. There is one scene that is so disturbingly ridiculous that it nears the level of entertainment: Ryan and Tim Robbins alternately, and endlessly, kiss and wrestle around the countryside, she's just disovered that he really isn't a physicist, as Eisenhower's Presidential convoy, and Einstein's entourage, wait patiently and with admiration.