Lots of people are going to dig “Lucky Number Slevin”. Chock full of pop culture references and one-liner spouting bad-asses, this crime/comedy/drama smash-up will satisfy a lot of viewers who aren't looking for much more than those things. Funky plot twists and narrative tangents keep this just entertaining enough for the more demanding viewers to tolerate it, but at the same time, recognizing it all the while for what it truly is – the latest “Pulp Fiction” wannabe, complete with the Weinstein's distributing and Bruce Willis (“Color of Night”) in a supporting role. And on top of that, it has the single worst movie title possibly since “Romancing the Stone”.
The lucky number in question has to do with a horseracing subplot that actually gets things going story-wise, then kinda goes away. It's all a big complicated mess (or, if you prefer, tapestry) - nothing too overbearing (this ain't “Syriana”!) – but enough so that recapping the plot, or even the shape of the plot, could easily dump us into Spoilerville. So I'll just say that after a few deadly deeds and darkly comedic muckity-muck, Josh Hartnett (“Hollywood Homicide”) is eventually wrestled out of his apartment (wearing only a towel) by witty thugs in what he keeps calling a big case of mistaken identity, like something out of Hitchcock's “North by Northwest”. In fact, “North by Northwest” itself is name-dropped and discussed (along with dozens of other film and television references), in an effort for the film's creators to not only show their hands just a little bit, but also come off as oh-so-cool. In case you were wondering, the “Slevin” of the title is indeed Hartnett's character. Ugh, yeah I know.
In the universe of the movie, there are two competing mob bosses, the Jewish mob boss played by Ben Kingsley (“A Sound of Thunder”), and the African-American mob boss, played by Morgan Freeman (“Dreamcatcher”). They used to be best buds, but at some point, they had a falling out, and now each remains holed up in his own darkly lit penthouse suite high atop neighboring skyscrapers, paranoid and trying to bring down the other's empire. They each hire Willis' assassin, and proceed to go after poor, nearly naked Slevin. Keen on that nearly-nakedness is the perky, smart and oh-so-available neighbor, also the cutest coroner in the world, played by Lucy Liu (“Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever”). She too soon finds herself in over her head, but that doesn't stop her from engaging Slevin in a flirty debate over James Bond movies. (A debate in which both parties know all there is to know about the topic, but in such a matter of fact way as to imply that EVERYONE in this world is equally knowledgeable. Because they are.)
Director Paul McGuigan (“Wicker Park”) has tried awfully hard to craft a cleverly postmodern bit of entertainment. He's got an ace cast, a unique production design, and enough twists to keep audiences interested. Unfortunately, his characters all speak with overbearingly interchangeable voices, a fact that is broadcast in their forced-wittiness. EVERYONE is a walking pop culture encyclopedia, and EVERYONE makes sure you know it. That tremendously annoying element trumps all other positive things I could say about this film.
You may've noticed that throughout the course of this review, I chose to site everyone in particularly obscure or embarrassing roles. Funny? Maybe, slightly, for a only a while. Nauseatingly smug? You bet. That's how this entire movie is. Kind of like its title – always trying painfully hard to impress us, to the point of utter transparency. If McGuigan and company would've spent a little more time thinking up a better title and crafting his characters into plausible human beings, and less time thinking up ways to put references to the cartoon character “Shmoo” into Morgan Freeman's mouth, we might've had something here. Alas, no. To risk using a line I'm sure most other critics won't be able to resist, don't bet on “Lucky Number Slevin”.
- Jim Tudor