Fans of ‘Pushing Tin’ will have soft on memories of the love/hate chemistry between John Cusack and Billy Bob Thornton, which Ramis attempts to harness for darker use in this crime thriller. But Ramis – who brought in two screenwriters to adapt Scott Phillips’ novel – generally seems to be a better director of his own work. Cusack’s Charlie, we learn calibrate, is a mob lawyer with interests in strip joints – both professional and in another situation. Thornton is his canny wife Vic, who’s talked him into stealing from his boss – it’s Christmas Eve, so who’s going to notice they’ve disappeared with the moolah until it’s too lately? But seems the mob do work Christmas after all, and Vic and Charlie are chased approximately Wichita’s seediest haunts in a haze of folded-crossing. Comic touches occasionally amuse, but this doesn’t use Cusack’s wry childbirth (which, in fairness, has shown signs of waning of late), leaving it to Thornton’s laconic cynicism to host. Problem is that both characters are so reprehensible, why should we care? Connie Nielsen’s lascivious switch disservice as a vampish strip-club owner absolutely isn’t enough to compensate.
To Kill the King
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