Have you heard the one about the neo-Nazi, the Cylon, and the Daily Show correspondent? The punchline is that in the end it’s all Mr. White’s fault.
In this ensemble piece, we have a strange little morality tale involving people much better in their more famous rolls, but still pleasing enough to occupy 90 minutes or so of your time. Harvey Keitel plays the father of five sons, each with their own idiosyncratic (read: two-dimensional) characterization (the boxer, the playboy, the nerd, etc.) When the father offs himself in dramatic fashion, the sons must come to terms with a secret revealed to them in the will that changes their outlook on life.
Think of this as a broad dark comedy, not witty enough to be really engaging, but quirky in a relatively unique way. Tricial Helfer does do “spunky” in what amounts to an extended cameo, and JK Simmons is as solid as always. While Jason Jones doesn’t exactly leap to film super-stardom with this role, it’s great to see him in a full-on porn stache.
Making Clifton Hill look like a place where locals would actually hang out is probably the greatest special effect of the whole thing, but the Falls themselves do provide a nice little tie up to the tale. For a debut, it’s certainly worthwhile, and its preciousness can be forgiven in those moments when the jokes connect and the silliness and fine cast is allowed to shine.
What the hell, having a scene where said-Cylon babe giggles and wiggles her butt might be worth the ticket alone. The title, however, is terrible, as writerly and wordy as the film’s more awkward moments, and, I fear, as forgettable as the flick itself.