File this one under Violent Guilty Pleasure.
That said, writer/director BenDavid Grabinski’s darkly comic crime thriller gets considerable mileage from star Vince Vaughn’s deadpan delivery of numerous quite funny lines. The dialogue also gets additional punch from the story’s wildly fanciful premise.
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| Nick (Vince Vaughn, foreground) contemplates his next move, while his companions — from left, Alice (Eiza González), Mike (James Marsden) and Future Nick (Vaughn) — try to decide what to do with him. |
Grabinski sets this saga during a single, body-strewn evening within The Organization, a contemporary criminal empire headed by no-nonsense Sosa (Keith David). As befits this genre, his gang members are known by descriptive names such as Roid Rage Ryan, Quick Draw Mike and Dumbass Tony.
Nick (Vaughn) and Mike (James Marsden), longtime buddies, have done Sosa’s dirty work for years.
Everybody has gathered in a swanky hotel to celebrate the return of Sosa’s beloved son, Jimmy Boy (Jimmy Tatro), just released from a six-year prison stretch. The festivities promise to stretch long through the night: beginning with a party that’ll be followed by an after-party, then an after-after-party, and finally an after-after-after-party. (Each becomes a titled chapter in this increasingly manic narrative.)
First, though, a prologue focuses on genius inventor Symon (Ben Schwartz), as he dashes between banks of computers, controls and mad-scientist displays, while bopping to Billy Joel’s “Why Should I Worry?”
Alas, Symon should have worried. He doesn’t last long, after an encounter with Nick.
At the party, Sosa has learned that Jimmy was set up, all those years ago, by a rat among their numbers: Mike. Sosa orders Nick to snatch Mike and hand him over to a stone-cold contract assassin known as The Barron, who has a reputation for (ahem) eating his victims after killing them.
Nick heads to room 801, where he knows Mike can be found. Nick cajoles him into an assignment, warning that they’re on a “tight schedule.” Mike briefly balks; he has had enough of this life of crime, and wants out. Just this one last thing, Nick insists.
They drive to a lovely home in a quiet neighborhood, where Nick hands Mike a rag and a bottle of chloroform, with which to subdue the guy inside.
Don’t hesitate, Nick emphasizes. Just do it.
Mike duly knocks on the door ... and is stunned when Nick opens it.
(By this point, sharp-eyed viewers will have noticed that Nick’s wardrobe keeps changing, back and forth.)
So ... what the heck?
Turns out Symon invented a time machine, which — a few months into the near future — a curious Nick entered and activated, having set the date back to the night of Jimmy’s return. This “Future Nick” learned, after the fact, that Mike was not the rat, and now is trying to prevent his former self from following Sosa’s orders.
Present-day Nick finds this a rather hard sell.
Chaos ensues.
Matters are complicated further by the fact that Mike is in love with Nick’s wife, Alice (Eiza González), and she with him. Truth be told, Nick and Alice have grown apart, and Future Nick understands that she’s better off with Mike.
Present-day Nick’s ability to absorb and believe all this is merely the tip of the iceberg, because Sosa sure as hell won’t buy it. That means our three — um, four — “heroes” soon will face the entire Organization’s wrath.
Lots of chaos ensues.
Grabinski interlaces this carnage with frequently silly exchanges between various characters, their dialogue often laced with Disney/Pixar references. At one point, things pause while everybody debates which guy Rory should have wound up with, when television’s “Gilmore Girls” concluded its seven-season run.
Mind you, this sort of banter is as delicate as a soufflé, and will seem stupid and pointless to viewers unwilling to embrace its presence amid such brutality.
Grabinski also has great fun with this doppelganger premise, in the form of hilarious one-liners. How can you not laugh, when — referencing the two Nicks — somebody says, “You’re behind you, Dude!”
Vaughn, always at home with quick-witted banter and fast-talking characters, swans through all of this with an air of detached amusement that’s perfect for the material. His two versions of Nick are distinctive: present-day Nick is impatient, emotional and selfish; Future Nick is calmer, wiser and a bit sad. He has gained perspective.
Marsden is a hoot as the frequently perplexed and easily overwhelmed Mike, whose education clearly was lacking. That aside, Marsden exudes sincerity; his past behavior notwithstanding, Mike is a nice guy, and we’d definitely hate to lose him.
González’s Alice is feisty, perceptive, sensual and just as capable as “the boys.” González and Marsden also share mildly flirty chemistry, although this script gives Mike and Alice very little time to enjoy it.
Bonus points for the cute orange cat dubbed Kingpin, played by felines named Fozzie and Ferris.
Joseph Trapanese’s score is lost amid the dozens of needle-drop pop tunes against which the increasingly violent melees are choreographed. This grows tedious, because Grabinski isn’t inventive enough to give such carnage the verve that (for example) Quentin Tarantino always delivers.
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