Review

Director Rafelson has been on autopilot for about a decade now, and that doesn't change with this by-the-books noir adapted from a Dashiell Hammett story ("The House on Turk Street"). Jackson is never believable in his role as a cop who, searching for a missing girl, instead stumbles upon a gang of thieves plotting to steal $10 million from a bank. He's taken hostage and moll Jovovich kinda falls for him, while she also manipulates ringleader Skarsgård and temperamental thug Hutchinson. The twists are mild (though at least they're plot-driven), the romance understated, and the violence is sudden and fierce. But at the same time the noir touches feel forced, and Jackson's character development is limited to his diabetes and cello-playing. It says something when the most notable directorial touch is the incongruous appearance of the song "I'm Not Your Stepping Stone," a reminder of Rafelson's hand in creating The Monkees (sung by his son Peter Rafelson to boot).

 -- David Gorgos