Directed by Gore Verbinski; starring Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, James Gandolfini, Bob Balaban and J.K. Simmons.
Despite the outrage of nonplussed friends and family – “I can’t believe you watched that crap!” was the response from one of my less reserved amigos – I actually enjoyed Hollywood’s latest quirky star-studded road movie, The Mexican.
Directed by Gore Verbinksi, The Mexican stars Brad Pitt as Jerry Welbach, an attractive shlub who accidentally got mixed up with the mob five years ago. Julia Roberts plays his girlfriend Sam, an equally attractive head case overflowing with dime store self-help Oprah-esque philosophies about love and relationships. After fudging what he thought was his last mob task, Jerry is sent on one final mission: to travel to Mexico to retrieve a priceless antique pistol. Needless to say, Sam is disappointed. Heaving Jerry’s belongings from the balcony of their Los Angeles home, Sam goes off on a tirade about “my needs,” “time outs” and “blame shifting.”
At this point, the two winsome half-wits go their separate ways: Jerry heads down to Mexico to retrieve the gun while Sam sets out for Las Vegas, where she plans to become a croupier. En route to Vegas, Sam gets kidnapped by Leroy (James Gandolfini). In the standout performance of movie, Gandolfini plays the antithesis of his other gangster persona (see “Current Cinema: The Sopranos” on p. 6). Leroy is a sensitive gay hit man, who, like Sam, has dime store self-help Oprah-esque tendencies. Over intimate diner conversations and dancing in hotel rooms, the hit man and his hostage quickly become best friends.
Meanwhile, down in Mexico, Jerry (who doesn’t speak a word of Spanish) isn’t having nearly as much fun. He loses his car, his dignity and the priceless pistol and spends most of the film roaming the arid land searching for a “rido in an el trucko to the next towno.”
Needless to say, The Mexican is not The Bicycle Thief. It’s not Easy Rider. It’s not even Midnight Run. But in its own circuitous and erratic way, it’s amiable and entertaining fare – the perfect mindless movie for a rainy and hung-over Sunday afternoon.