Friday, February 12, 2010

Saint John of Las Vegas (**1/2)

This is the second-funniest movie of the last year to be set in Vegas, though it’s a toss up whether this or The Hangover’s plot is less believable. The Hangover, you may recall, involved a foursome who wake up to find their hotel room mysteriously trashed, a tiger in the bathroom, an unclaimed baby, and a chicken. Here we have naturists with guns, a burning tow-truck driver (in a flame-retardant suit), and the most unusual lap dance I’ve seen on film. I imagined that the chicken from The Hangover, whose presence never was explained, might show up.

It’s supposed to be based on Dante’s Inferno, in presumably its least-literal film interpretation. John (Steve Buscemi) shares Dante’s last name, Alegheri, and his journey into the here-figurative Hell is guided by one Virgil (Romany Malco)—his surly coworker, not the poet. They’re insurance investigators in Albuquerque. John’s a gambling addict who moved out of Nevada so his losses would be confined to scratch-off tickets and such, but has to go back there to uncover a possibly fraudulent claim. This is a decent premise for a movie, but writer-director Hue Rhodes, in a feature debut, is more interested in having a bunch of weird stuff happen than in showing the dark side of gambling addiction or how insurance companies really do catch cheaters. (Presumably it doesn't involve sending investigators from 500 miles away, but who knows.) The sharpest moment is when John, finally headed back into a casino, gets a call from his erstwhile sweetheart (Sarah Silverman) and quickly brushes her off.

For all the (easily ignored) 14th-century literary references, the comedy plays like a small picture whose amusing moments don’t quite cohere (or seem forced), and whose plot doesn’t really work. Dream sequences seem like padding in a film that still winds up short of the 90-minute mark.

IMDB link

viewed 2/8/2010 at Ritz Bourse [PFS screening] and reviewed 2/9–11/2010

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