3,000 Miles to Graceland

REVIEW
Russell and Costner are two ex-cons who pull off the daring robbery of a Las Vegas casino — dressed as Elvis impersonators. From this juncture, the plot could have gone in any one of several promising directions, but instead the filmmakers steer down the much-traveled (and overworn) road of the vengeful-psycho-killer-with-an-arsenal chasing after the bag of loot. Costner has fun playing an irascible badass who, it's hinted at, may be the King’s illegitimate son. It's a change of pace for the actor to be portraying such a flamboyantly despicable character, and it's his most lively turn in years. Russell is a quasi-nice guy on the wrong side of the law; he's got the swaggering hero stuff down pat and plays off Costner rather well. But there's indeed trouble in Graceland: despite the strength and charisma of its leads, the whole project is derailed by an inferior screenplay, inadequate direction (newcomer Lichtenstein is clueless when it comes to staging a coherent action sequence), hectic over-editing and needless hyper-violence. 3000 Miles to Graceland isn't the worst movie of the year, but it certainly is the most obnoxiously loud.