Outside the comedy realm, a 'dumb criminal' plot a tough sell. Despite a standout performance by W.D. as a vulnerable sociopath this was tough film to like. In the past, a nihilistic heist story with an 8-Ball's worth of random Hollywood visuals paid the bills. (e.g. Natural Born Killers) Schrader remains unable to parlay his fading nostalgia into something resembling a legacy. Cinematography has advanced to the point that most reverential (self or other) shots are staid. On the story note, Nick Cage's wanton H. Bogart impressions negate character development and story. He needs to: A) Get a new agent (B) Stop phoning it (C) Just retire. But, if there is any takeaway from this pseudo art-house turd, W. Defoe is amazing. In the end it was enjoyable and completely forgettable.