After the Sunset

After the Sunset

I am confused by what a movie asks us to believe. Take the opening sequence of a diamond heist film called “After the Sunset.” Stan, an FBI agent played by Woody Harrelson, is sitting in an SUV with a briefcase containing a gem; when the driver gets out of the vehicle, thief Max (Pierce Brosnan) uses a PDA to take control of it, backs up at high speed and races away from the FBI security escort. On a side street, it stops in front of a garage door, and a semi truck pushes it sideways through the door, which slams shut behind it, and Stan is robbed of the jewel once more by his old arch-enemy.

Good stuff. But wait. Max’s partner in the heist was Lola (Salma Hayek), who disguised herself as a bearded squeegee guy at a stoplight, using her squeegee to read the bar code on the SUV window so Max could key in the vehicle on his PDA. Also good. But why did he need to know the vehicle identification number when he had clearly modified it already?

It contains remote controls that he is operating. Even well equipped SUVs do not come equipped with devices that allow them to be driven by PDAs. We are distracted from this fact by Lola’s obligatory scene ripping off her whiskers and wig and looking perfectly made up underneath.

Movies get away with showing us something that is obviously impossible by making it completely absurd. No more than one viewer out of 100 will ask the questions I just did; we go with the flow on movies like this. And this movie is all flow.

“After the Sunset” is well made, but there’s no need for it. I can’t think of any good reason to see it when you could be seeing “Sideways,” “Ray,” “The Polar Express,” “The Incredibles,” “Primer,” “Vera Drake” or “Undertow.” But if you do see it, time will pass.

The actors are congenial. What’s “After the Sunset” except behavior circling clichés? Pierce Brosnan and Salma Hayek throw themselves into their roles — but softly, so nothing gets broken. She’s in full plunging neckline in the sunset mode. Woody Harrelson has the necessary ambiguity to play an FBI agent who love-hates Max (the thief played by Brosnan).

Don Cheadle has fun as an American born Bahamian gangster who wants to become Brosnan’s partner in stealing a precious diamond from a cruise ship. Naomie Harris is intriguing as a local cop. The locations are sun-drenched, and there are enough plugs for the Atlantis resort hotel so that we know the cast enjoyed their stay on the island.

But what, really, is “After the Sunset” other than behavior circling cliches? The heist itself, with its entrance through the ceiling, etc., is recycled from other films. However, the method by which Max establishes his alibi is clever. I can’t describe it without giving away too much, but should you watch the film, ask yourself (1) if there’s really enough time to do what he does; and (2) how likely it is that a non-diving FBI agent would agree to come along with a couple of thieves on a midnight scuba expedition to an old wreck?

The subplot is the old standby about crooks who pull off one last job and plan to retire. Of course she’s in favor of this; but he grows restless and misses his old life. The same thing that happened to Max happened only last week to Mr. Incredible.

The female lead always gets the thankless task of trying to talk him out of doing what he obviously must do or there would be no movie.

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