For anyone fool enough to venture into the theater, this aimless Brett Ratner-helmed heist flick is sure to inspire thoughts of better things to do after the end credits roll. “After the Sunset” isn’t so much a bad film as it is a wholly unoriginal and unnecessary one. Surely the world doesn’t need another weak Elmore Leonard knock-off populated with one-dimensional characters engaging in humdrum high jinks … hell, it hasn’t even been a year since the release of the “The Big Bounce.”
Fifty-one-year-old Pierce Brosnan, sporting a perpetual five o’clock shadow, is the latest lucky star to benefit from Hollywood’s incongruous insistence on pairing “mature” males with much younger leading ladies — in this case, the sultry Salma Hayek as Lola, Max’s life partner in crime. Max and Lola steal impossibly valuable booty, to the great dismay of their bumbling nemesis, FBI agent Stan Lloyd (Woody Harrelson). Months after they pull off a jewel heist that inexplicably leads to Stan’s suspension from the Bureau, he locates the deceptive duo in the Caribbean, where they are seemingly enjoying a very comfortable early retirement. Ah, but a cruise ship bearing a priceless Napoleon diamond is docked within eyesight of the couple’s beachfront abode, and Stan is convinced Max means to make the most of this highly convenient coincidence. It’s unclear whether Stan means to catch a thief and regain credibility with his bosses, or if he wants in on Max’s action, but there’s no mistaking Ratner’s objective: To travel the well-worn path of least resistance in a genre that in recent years has been stretched beyond bearable limits.
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on November 12, 2004. Read the original PDF.