Susan Granger’s review of “Smokin’ Aces” (Universal Pictures)
I’m sure the action/comedy production pitch was something like, “There’s this sleazy magician, a witness against the mob, who’s being pursued by a wacky bunch of killers – kind of like ‘It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World’ if it were directed by Quentin Tarantino.” That sounds like fun – but isn’t.
Living as a decadent cokehead in the Nomad Casino’s splendid penthouse in Lake Tahoe, Nevada, Buddy “Aces” Israel (Jeremy Piven of “The Entourage”) knows too much about organized crime in Las Vegas and is ready to rat out, so Mafia boss Primo Sparazza (Joseph Ruskin) puts out a million-dollar contract on him.
Buddy is supposed to be in the protective custody of federal agents Carruthers (Ray Liotta) and Messner (Ryan Reynolds), who work under Deputy Director Stanley Locke (Andy Garcia). The FBI wants Buddy alive to testify as state’s evidence – and Buddy’s looking forward to the witness protection program to stay alive.
“You see exactly, and only, what I choose to show you,” says Buddy. “That’s illusion. That’s the lie I tell your eyes.”
But that doesn’t deter the motley assortment of free-lance thugs, mobsters, bounty hunters and neo-Nazis – like Ben Affleck, Martin Henderson, Peter Berg, Chris Pine, Kevin Durand, Maury Serling, Tommy Flanagan, Nestor Carbonell, along with stunning lesbian lovers Alicia Keys and Taraji Henson – who are determined to bring Buddy down before the feds can use him as their star witness. Bang! Bang!
After getting off to a promising, pulpy start, writer/director Joe Carnahan (“Narc”) wears out his welcome quickly as the body count mounts and the blood-splattered chases become more and more incomprehensible. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, “Smokin’ Aces” is a sloppy, slapstick, son-of-“Pulp Fiction” 3. It’s a silly sucker bet.
