Review: Lucky Number Slevin
After "Pulp Fiction" exploded in 1994, there was a slew of imitators that followed closely with identical ingredients. They all wanted a slice of the hipster criminal money pie, but soon the genre died and Hollywood moved on to superhero and horror movies. "Lucky Number Slevin" (IMDb listing) represents the next wave of spunky crime thriller/comedies, and if this film is the warning shot, the future looks bleak.
Written by Jason Smilovic, "Slevin" feels like a lackluster writing sample that somehow bumbled its way into a feature film production. Smilovic's screenwriting is wordy, self-conscious, and cutesy, propelling itself with "Thin Man" speed, but stuck with film geek references that even fictional characters would never be caught dead speaking. It plays like the "Gilmore Girls" with more bullets and bad haircuts, but without a scrap of charm or artistic proficiency. With lovers comparing James Bond actors in bed, The Rabbi chatting up "North by Northwest" with Slevin, or just meaningless back-and-forth quipping between enemies, "Slevin" rambles on and on with incessant dialog. It soon becomes crystal clear that Smilovic is trying to cover for the lack of dimension in the film with all his toothless wordplay.
Director Paul McGuigan (who worked with Hartnett in "Wicker Park") is also incapable of bringing any spark to this dried up story. He's hedged his bets by casting the film with sparkling stars, and there's a minor tremor of excitement that comes with watching Freeman, Willis, and Kingsley in a room together. OK, after "A Sound of Thunder" and "BloodRayne," maybe not Kingsley so much. McGuigan tarts up the film with moody photography and some trick shots, but he is completely unable to find a pulse to the story. "Slevin" arrogantly assumes itself a wickedly clever creation, but there's little proof during the film that validates the production's argument.
In the finale, "Slevin" turns into a "Usual Suspects" event, where Smilovic is looking to blow minds by yanking the plot inside out. What the writer and director fail to do with the rest of the film is find a convincing reason why the viewer should even care by this point. There's so much attention placed on tongue-twisting dialog and showboating characters that to try and reshape this experience as a brain-tickler is unreasonable and quite tedious. The final 15 minutes of "Slevin" are devoted to McGuigan flat-out explaining the plot to the audience, which is now divided into two camps: those who have no desire to learn the "truth" in the first place, and those who figured it out in the opening reel because Josh Hartnett is incapable of a performance that requires a character to convey the illusion of ingenuity.
Filmfodder Grade: D