Wow, Smokin' Aces. This was the first jolt of life that came to the 2007 calendar year. It was the first film to ignite the excitement of the cinema. It opened at the end of January, and was not really met all that enthusiastically by the critical world. Hell, even I wasn't quite sure if I liked it when I left the theater that night. However, I do know that my adrenaline had jumped up a few notches. The film is essentially Tarantino to the nth degree, but without all the skill in execution. What it lacks for in polish and finesse, it makes up for with its frenetic energy.
I truly wanted to love Smokin’ Aces. The trailers set the bar high, I loved the hyper-kinetic look, the promise of bullets and wild humor, and the impressive array of stars. What I got were some great action set pieces, some nice humor, and a story that went through too many hoops to force everything into position while never developing a character to like. I can honestly say that I did not care what happened to any of the characters. It did not matter one iota whether they all lived or died, or whether anyone was successful at achieving their ends.
But - and there is almost always a but - I still found myself enjoying the ride. It was not nearly what I had hoped for, but there was a certain giddy joy that could be gleaned from the cartoonish characters, the outlandish situations, and the infectious energy that pervades the camera moves and editing. It is a comic book/video game come to life.
The plot has a hit put out on Buddy “Aces” Israel. He is currently in a battle with Primo Sparrazzo for control of the Nevada crime scene. When it comes out that Aces is going to testify for the Federal government, essentially shutting down the family, Primo puts out a hit on the sleazy Vegas showman. One million dollars goes to whoever brings him Buddy’s heart, an odd contract to be sure, and one that has more to it than meets the eye.
This attracts all manner of colorful characters to the Lake Tahoe penthouse that is currently serving as house and home to our titular character. Buddy is holed up, sealed off from the rest of the world, surrounded by Motley Crue levels of decadence, lines of coke and crumpled bodies of used hookers litter his living space. It is this hotel that serves as headquarters for the likes of a master of disguise, an expert in torture, a trio of tattooed punks, and a lesbian hit-couple.
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