Dark Streets

Alas, the flimsy plot -- less a whodunit than an isn't-it-screamingly-obvious-that-that-guy-done-it! -- will have thriller fans singing the blues.

The movie, drawn from Wallace King's adaptation of Glenn Stewart's play, drips with style, but it's all flourish and no reveal.

The type of film I would call eternally frustrating. Boasting a solid cast and an amazing look, the film is a mishmash of film noir, mystery and bluesy big band song and dance numbers that on a surface level play brilliantly.

The main pitfall of modern noirs is that filmmakers get so caught up in the chiaroscuro lighting schemes and florid twists of dialogue and voiceover that they forget noir was about expressing more than just attitude and style.

As a dancing chanteuse, Bijou Phillips gives it her all, which isn't enough, and a wooden Mann doesn't help, although Izabella Miko brings a modicum of unaffected charm to her role as the Other Woman.

Let no one ever say that Dark Streets doesn't have the perfect title. It may not be much more than a stylized regurgitation of creaky film-noir clichés and crime-fiction conventions … but its streets are undeniably dark.

Pretentious mess of a movie.