Film Review: Smokin' Aces (2006)
In the early years of the 21st century, Hollywood found itself churning out a considerable number of films whose concepts appeared tantalising on paper, only to stumble significantly in their execution. These projects, often boasting an impressive aggregation of talent both behind and in front of the camera, promised a synthesis of style and substance that rarely materialised. Joe Carnahan’s 2006 film, Smokin’ Aces is a prime example of this cinematic phenomenon. It was conceived as a potent cocktail of nihilistic, Tarantinoesque black comedy and frenetic, blood-soaked action spectacle, fuelled by an ensemble cast of considerable note, a "cool" contemporary soundtrack, and a relentless barrage of pop culture references. Yet, despite this seemingly foolproof formula, the film ultimately transpired to be one of the less memorable and more frustrating pieces of cinema of its era, a hollow exercise in style that failed to find a meaningful soul.
The plot, such as it is, commences with its nominal protagonist, FBI agent Richard Messner (Ryan Reynolds). Partnered with the more seasoned Agent Donald Carruthers (Ray Liotta), Messner is engaged in the surveillance of Primo Sparazza (Joseph Ruskin), the elderly and formidable boss of the Las Vegas mafia. Their operation takes a sharp turn when they learn that Sparazza has placed a staggering one million US dollar bounty on the head of Buddy "Aces" Israel (Jeremy Piven). Israel, a former Las Vegas magician and wannabe mobster who once served as Sparazza’s protégé, has apparently cut a deal with the government to testify against his former mentor. Fearing for his life, Israel has sequestered himself in the penthouse suite of a Lake Tahoe hotel, a location which swiftly becomes the magnetic destination for a large and bizarrely diverse assortment of characters. This menagerie includes a cavalcade of assassins, bounty hunters, and lawmen, whose inevitable collision is primed to culminate in a spectacular and bloody confrontation.
Carnahan has openly admitted that the initial inspiration for his film was Stanley Kramer's 1963 epic comedy, It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. In a similar fashion, Smokin' Aces relies heavily on the appeal of an ensemble cast, and on paper, it is indeed an impressive and diverse assembly. The roster ranges from Ryan Reynolds, playing the most "normie" and arguably most grounded character in the entire chaotic affair, to veteran actor Ray Liotta, re-teaming with Carnahan following their successful collaboration on the acclaimed 2002 crime film Narc. The cast is further bolstered by famous musicians stepping into acting roles, such as Alicia Keys as Georgia Sykes, a Black lesbian assassin partnered with the sharp-shooting Charice Watters (Taraji P. Henson), and Common as Sir Ivy, Israel's conflicted chief of security. Many other prominent names are shoehorned into what amount to "blink-it-and-you-missed-it" semi-cameo roles, including Matthew Fox as the beleaguered chief of hotel security and Joel Edgerton as one of Israel’s East European bodyguards, a testament to a casting strategy that prioritised quantity over narrative necessity.
With such a sprawling cast, it was perhaps inevitable that some performances would falter under the weight of underdeveloped material. Jeremy Piven, despite his proven comedic talents, delivers a profoundly disappointing turn as Buddy Israel. The character is poorly written, veering erratically between pathetic drug-addled wreck and calculating mob informant, leaving Piven floundering in a role that is as confusing as it is unsympathetic. A similar fate befalls Andy Garcia, who is utterly wasted as the bureaucratic FBI Deputy Director Locke, a character who exists primarily to deliver exposition in a stilted, unconvincing manner. The impression is, however, partially saved by Chris Pine, who clearly has a whale of a time playing Darwin Tremor, the gleefully unhinged leader of a trio of half-crazed neo-Nazi brothers. Pine’s performance is a rare flash of genuine, manic energy in a film that often feels like it is merely going through the motions.
Yet, even with a more uniformly successful cast, Smokin' Aces could not have compensated for its most fundamental flaw: a poor script. Carnahan’s screenplay attempts to cram an excessive amount of plot and far too many characters into its running time, resulting in a narrative that is both convoluted and, paradoxically, quite shallow. The audience is bombarded with introductions to various factions and hitmen without ever being given a compelling reason to care about any of them. Furthermore, while the film is drenched in brutal and often graphic violence, with characters being dispatched in large numbers, it sorely lacks the humour that defined the work of its obvious influence, Quentin Tarantino. The few attempts at comedy are derived from tired ethnic, racial, and sociological clichés. A particularly cringe-inducing example involves Hollis Elmore (Stephen Henderson), the sole survivor of a trio of bail bondsmen attacked by the Tremor brothers, who encounters a white-trash family. This sequence leans heavily on the lazy caricature of their young son (Zach Bumer) being a Ritalin-addicted karate obsessive, a gag that feels both dated and mean-spirited.
Occasionally, Carnahan strives for something "clever" or cinematically resonant. In one of the film’s more inventive scenes, Darwin Tremor engages in an imaginary conversation with Jack Dupree (Ben Affleck), a bail bondsman he has just murdered. He moves the dead man's lips to match his own words, all set to Ennio Morricone's "Morte di soldato" from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. This is an undeniably interesting scene, a visually striking homage to classic cinema that demonstrates a flicker of the directorial ambition the film so desperately needed more of. However, this brief moment of artistry feels jarringly out of place with the rest of the film’s frenetic and soulless aesthetic, standing as an isolated island of creativity in a sea of mediocrity.
Even worse than the script's structural failures is its gallery of characters, who are almost uniformly morally reprehensible, leaving the audience with few, if any, figures to root for. This nihilistic approach extends even to the supposed authority figures. Deputy Director Locke delivers another "clever" twist concerning institutional moral compromises, a development that is intended to add layers of intrigue to the plot but instead only serves to render the preceding carnage even more pointless. This sense of futility is compounded by the final defiant gesture of the ostensible main character, an act that is so ultimately meaningless that it leaves the audience questioning why they bothered to invest their time in this grimy and joyless exercise in the first place.
Carnahan’s direction is equally disappointing as his script. The general setup takes far too long to establish itself, becoming bogged down in its own confusing web of plot threads and character introductions. This is not salvaged by the subsequent action sequences, which are choreographed in a tiresome MTV-style of rapid cuts and shaky camerawork. The freneticism feels manufactured and lacks the kinetic energy and visceral impact that a director like Tony Scott brought to similar tales in films such as True Romance. Instead of feeling exciting, the action often feels chaotic and indistinct, a blur of blood and bullets that fails to generate any genuine tension or excitement.
In a final ironic twist, Smokin’ Aces, despite its large cast and high-concept premise, was produced on a relatively low budget. This fiscal restraint allowed it to turn a modest commercial profit, even as the majority of reviews were decidedly negative. Its financial success, largely disconnected from its critical reception, was enough to spawn a direct-to-video prequel in 2010, Smokin' Aces 2: Assassins' Ball, which, unsurprisingly, failed to capture even the meagre attention of its predecessor.
RATING: 3/10 (+)
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