Knockaround Guys: Review By B. Alan Orange

Code Orange Alert #37966: Knockaround Guys

"Succa-lucca good" is not a quote you'll be hearing from me in terms of this new faux-gangster wannabe mess that will soon be making a mockery out of our precious silver screen. Those lovely asswhor*s have done it again. Some untalented Jackhole in Hollywood has gone and made another dish of indigestible crap. His point of inspiration must have been The Olive Chinese Super Buffet in Santa Ana at seven bucks a pop. Bravo, you win. I give up. This fine cinematic feast has left me unable to walk without desperately needing to take a stringy, snot-laden sh*t.

I hate sucker-bitches who end their handshakes with an odd tweak; like a bump, or a slide, or a tickle of the palm. They know you're not expecting it, yet they expect you to come with the follow through, which is given, by you, in a slow-motion reflex. Most times, you'll come away from these fancy handshakes looking like a retarded short-order cook at an ARC-run Sizzler Steak House. Why do guys insist on pulling this wacky maneuver? I guarantee, unless you run in the same circle as the dude dolling it out, you're not going to be ready for whatever goofy finger tussle he's bound to tag onto your initial greeting, thus making you look like a fool. That's what this movie is; one long awkward 'Hello' that you're never fully prepared for. It's an unnecessary exercise that's initial concept can't really be improved upon, so why even try? Out of sheer self-hatred, I guess. Yeah, Knockaround Guys is the type of entertainment you try to avoid running into after that first uncomfortable encounter.

Whew, what a difference two years makes. (Yeah, right.) This thing was ready to be kicked into multiplexes during the Reagan Administration. Instead, it languished in the basement of New Line Cinemas like a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20, gathering dust. This is the type of wine that doesn't age gracefully, congealing in blobs of red tar used to fuel a Lava Lamp. Executives should have known not to sit on it. I mean, if it's any indication as to what this thing is going to acc*mulate at the box office, everyone within earshot of the trailer has shouted loudly, "I thought this already came out a long time ago. Was it so good, they had to re-release it?" If people already thought it came out, and they didn't 'see' it the first time around, what makes anyone think those same people are going to go see it now? They're not, and neither are you. (We're all going to save our hard earned dough for Waking Up in Reno...Uh-huh.)

I love New Line, but their thinking process has been way off these last couple of months. They've got a whole hoard of sh*t locked away that should maybe never see the light of a projector. Hell, throw it on video and recoup your losses with Lord of the Rings, Friday, and Austin Powers. It seemed to work last year with the Jared Leto-Jake Gyllenhaal-Selma Blair fueled Highway and that Brad Renfro-Justin Long-Dominique Swain ass jelly commonly referred to as Happy Campers. These treats aren't Twinkies. You can't promote a movie like Knockaround Guys and then throw it in the cupboard. You may think it has a long shelf life, but I'm telling you, no one's going to want to eat it. Unless they wake up, stumble about the kitchen, and accidentally happen upon it in the dark. All that lockdown time did S1M-One not one bit of good. And they sat on Run Ronnie Run until they killed it like a squealin' baby chick. Even that comedic masterpiece is quickly becoming too dated with its Reality Show premise to ever do much good at the box office. Now we have this, a quaint little gangster picture that seems as though it's already been suffering a lonely death on a shelf somewhere in the back of Blockbuster Video. I can see the sun-strained box in my head. If this had come out before the advent of DVD, I'm sure executives wouldn't be hurrying to transfer it onto that format anytime soon. You'd probably still be able to dig it out of the two-dollar discount bin near the front of the store, though.

A weight of dead air has woven itself through the belt loops of this strained project. I'm sure the only reason it's actually being released is on the strength of Vin Diesel, one of the hottest tickets in town lately. After watching him here, I'm still not sure why that is. I'm not anti-Vin, but he sure doesn't deserve all the credit he's been given. He stumbles through Knockaround Guys with no real purpose to the proceedings. His character is given so little to do, we can never care about him, or even wince when it comes time for him to, maybe, die. It's a notion that is thrown on the screen in a 'So-What?' stance. And it is with his character, Taylor, that the filmmakers prove their absolute ignorance and inability to create a worthwhile persona. The press notes tell us that Taylor is a guy hampered in the mob family by his half-Jewish descent. What? Sure, those clever girls and guys in charge of tossing out promotional packaging can sum up his motivation in one sentence, but that notion is never examined during the running course of this film. They never build on the Jewish aspect of Taylor or throw it into any corner of the plotline, yet they so blatantly tell us that he is indeed Jewish by throwing a door-sized Star of David tattoo on his arm in thick black ink. And they've slung the same symbol around his neck in a blistering 'bling-bling' pockmark of silver. And check out those monster truck-sized rings on his fingers. Come on, this is a blatant stereotype without a payoff. It's completely worthless to the structure of the film; an unnecessary wardrobe mistake that stands out like a sore thumb. When was the last time you ran into a guy wearing a gold-plated menorah like a set of brass knuckles? Okay, there was that one time I got into a fight on Fairfax, just outside of Canter's Deli, but that's completely beside the point...

The whole movie stands at this type of barefaced, Japanese fable-like way of telling a story. It's a simpleton's scenario that got dumbed down in the process. Our protagonist is wrought with a base means of motivation. He's just a kid, the son a gangster, and, at twelve, he's mentally unable to kill the man who sent his father to prison. This brings the boy much shame, and from that moment on, he's always looked down upon in his organized crime family. When he's older and walking around looking like Barry Pepper (who looks a Hell of a lot like Alex Winter), he realizes he can only do mobster work, and must prove himself in the game. Maybe this could have worked, but the tone is way-off. It's jokey, and handled with an amateurish eye. John Malkovich, as the 12 year-old's uncle in charge of handling that opening execution, wants to make the scene real, and true, but the way he harmfully spits his dialogue is a misstep. And it's this wrongful set-up that leaks all over the rest of the story.

None of the performances seem to be in sync. And when we get to the main objective, it feels cheap. These are mobsters, and they're squealin' over a bag of money that wouldn't buy four airline tickets to China? How pointless is that? How can I even care what happens to these guys in the least bit? And should I even mention Seth Green? He's three feet shorter than his partners, and looks so out of place amongst them, you aren't fooled for a second into thinking he belongs here. And that's a shame, because he's one of the only actors present who seems to want to entertain us. The rest of these dudes look bored beyond belief.

Well, Vin, Barry, I'm feeling you. I'm bored, too.

In an odd twist, Knockaround Guys decides to kill off some of its main characters. That might have been fine in another movie, but here, the film hasn't really earned the right. The notion is played off like nothing more than a few extra moments given to pad out seat time. You can't make Seth Green the only likable guy, and then shoot him in the face. Who wants to watch that? I'm telling you, no one. Except for some Green hating sociopath with a Moo Don Wu complex. And I have a feeling those are few and far between.

Yes, I'm fat, lazy, lonely, and stupid, but it still doesn't change the fact that this here so-called-movie stinks like an infected sore drenched in peroxide. Where have all the good times gone? Is there any reason to drop a ten spot at the 26 anymore? I'm going to cut my losses and get out right now...