On top of that, the whole thing feels weirdly dated.

And since nobody else in the movie is vivid enough to provide any sort of contrapuntal liveliness-neither Bichir nor Hunter are especially well served by the script, which gives Law a near monopoly on good lines-we're basically trapped with this schmuck for the duration. Instead, whenever the actor gets a chance to turn mawkish-above all, in a shameless scene of mourning at his dead wife's gravesite-he reverts to being the blubbery, feckless Law we know, with a much too evident gratitude at being back in his comfort zone. Law doesn't have the wit to understand that Dom's bathetic streak ought to have the same edge of crazy vainglory as his roguish side. But once we glumly realize that we're supposed to feel Dom's pain, we're no longer able to enjoy him. You can see how hard he's working to convince us he's relishing the part-he's always been eager to please, after all-and he doesn't do badly by the foul-mouthed rants that Shepard can apparently churn out like David Mamet-ized fortune cookies. It would take one heck of a lead actor to make this goulash go down, and Jude Law is… well, not that actor. Grant) head off to the silky Russian's villa in the south of France to collect Dom's payoff for his silence. Fontaine's tab, he and his long-suffering sidekick Dickie (Richard E. Then, after he's been treated to a cocaine-and-hookers orgy on Mr. Once he gets sprung, Dom wastes no time tracking down and beating the crap out of the guy who shacked up with his now dead wife while he was behind bars. Fontaine, the elegant Russian hit man who hired him for his last job. He's playing an expert safecracker who's done 12 years in the pen after refusing to rat out Demian Bichir as Mr.

Gee, do you suppose somebody thought it was time for an image makeover? That's plainly what tempted Brosnan, and Law's career these days looks even more on the verge of terminal vagueness. Almost a decade later, the new Dom Hemingway opens with a barbarically hirsute Jude Law delivering a manic ode to the glories of his cock while getting a prison blowjob. Back in 2005, The Matador turned onetime Bond-franchise clotheshorse Pierce Brosnan into a booze-soaked, pot-bellied professional assassin luring sad-sack businessman Greg Kinnear to his doom. Writer-director Richard Shepard has a real thing for getting dapper Brit actors on the verge of their sell-by date to take a walk on the wild side. Jude-law-dom-hemingway-actor-movie-film-review.jpg

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