THE MEXICAN

So you’ve got two of the sexiest stars in Hollywood — what better way to show them off than by separating them for almost the entire movie? In the two hours plus of Gore Verbinsk’s The Mexican, Julia Roberts and Brad Pitt spend about 10 minutes together, and nine of those arguing. Who could blame them? This contrived, tedious, halfheartedly offensive romantic comedy has not much to do with love or any other recognizable human quality.

Roberts is Samantha, a shrewish advocate of self-help empowerment and group therapy who tosses boyfriend Jerry, played by Pitt, out in the street when he opts to go to Mexico to do one more job for his hoodlum boss instead of going with her to Vegas. He’ll be killed if he doesn’t do it, but Sam thinks he’s just selfish — what a wacky insight into feminine psychology! The job is to recover a priceless antique pistol, the “Mexican” of the title (it’s the only Mexican in the film that gets any respect), and since Jerry is a half-wit with bad luck, everything goes wrong and none of it is interesting or funny. Meanwhile, a hit man played by James Gandolfini of The Sopranos (he’s a thug, but he’s sensitive) takes Sam hostage, and so we’ve got two lousy movies going instead of one. Gandolfini, in fact, almost makes the film tolerable, as does Bob Balaban as a cold mob kingpin, but otherwise The Mexican shoots blanks.

— Peter Keough