After the Sunset

Directed by Brett Ratner

New Line Cinema

Pierce Brosnan has decided that the highfalutin complexity of his recent James Bond yarns has just gone way too far.

To atone, he made his latest picture a simplistic heist blockbuster that is sure to connect with audiences. Throwing out his classy suits, ultra fancy gadgets, and razor, he opts for a more disarming scruffy man’s man look.

Now I love a good Bond movie and I can guess how emotionally taxing such a role can be; I thus fully understand why an actor might want to “take a break” as Brosnan does with this new film. But it’s difficult to understand how this project actually made it through production, when the actors, screenwriters, director and cinematographer are so obviously phoning in their work.

Sunset begins with two master thieves, Max Burdett (Brosnan) and the luscious Lola Cirillo (Salma Hayek), completing the heist of a one-of-a-kind diamond and then jetting to a tropical island paradise to enjoy their retirement. Unbeknownst to them, FBI agent Stanley Lloyd (Woody Harrelson), still simmering from his botched attempt to prevent their robbery, has tracked them down. He informs them that he knows they have selected the island as part of a plot to steal another rare diamond and declares that he will catch them in the act. That Agent Lloyd actually believes that this is a reasonable way to nab the bad guys and worse yet, that our brilliant criminals agree with him, is a matter of debate for amateur criminologists.

Everyone else will sit there wondering why the characters, who are about as substantial as the clothes they wear, are doing any of things they do. After Agent Lloyd’s disclosure, Burdett is forced to contemplate the marginal utility of stealing another diamond. With the potential benefits of being a little bit richer weighed against the likely costs of imprisonment in a maximum security facility, all but one option falls away for any logical viewers, but obviously not for the insensible writers.

Not to totally pan the film, but there are a few decent comic moments thanks mostly to Harrelson who seemingly takes on the daunting task of playing himself. There are also the occasional stunning shot compositions filled with lush, evocative colors that suggest a buried filmmaker with an eye for strong visuals—an ironic highpoint when one considers that the director was also responsible for such visual classics Money Talks and Rush Hour.

All the movie’s simple pleasures are easily cancelled out by, quite possibly, the most egregious use of island music in recent cinematic history. As the filmmakers begin to lose any faith in their story, cleavage seems to spill out of every frame. And should there be an appropriate pause for character development, audiences can count on meaningless dialogue to provoke unintended laughs.

Oh yeah, in all of the silly commotion, Don Cheadle makes a cameo appearance which certainly constitutes the throwaway performance of the year. With no purpose other than plot device (unless we are supposed to be paying attention to his astute social commentary), his character, island kingpin Henri, is conveniently made an American to guarantee that there will be no fancy “acting” in this movie. The sad truth is you would be better served catching up on some sleep than finding out what happens in this mind-numbing dud.

—Tony A. Onah