This was a frustrating watch because it had a lot of good qualities, but none of them were able to really shine through the LA smog of a poor setup, lackluster writing, and uninspired direction. It ended up feeling like a weaker version of Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, which wasn’t the strongest to begin with.

Things get off to a bad start when the movie forgets to establish its premise before diving into it. We’re introduced to Amelia, around whom the whole story will revolve, but her later importance is hardly presaged—she shows up almost incidentally. Then Gosling and Crowe start looking for her before we even learn that she's gone missing. So when the action starts up, you’re likely to find yourself scratching your head about what the main thrust of everything is.

The movie never really recovers from this. A lack of clear framing for the story makes the whole thing feel scattered and unfocused.

Our hapless detectives have decent chemistry, and Gosling especially makes for some funny scenes. It’s really not fair that such a tall, handsome guy also has great comedic timing. Like, save some for the rest of us, pal.

Crowe, on the other hand, is a total misfire here. His accent sucks, for starters. Idk if he’s doing like a New York thing on purpose or not, but even if it is intentional, he’s not pulling it off. His character is written with basically no personality, and Crowe does nothing to elevate him off the page.

This, like the poor structure, annihilates the film’s effectiveness. If one of the buddy cops in your buddy cop comedy isn’t funny or otherwise charismatic, you’ve basically got half a protagonist. Imagine if instead of a fast-talking loose cannon detective, Chris Tucker’s Rush Hour character had been an aging insurance claims adjuster with a stomach ulcer. Actually, that sounds like it has ten times the comedic potential of Crowe’s wasted role in this.

Speaking of wasted comedic potential, so many of this movie’s bits are so close to being funny. They have the structure of jokes, they’re timed like jokes, they’re delivered as jokes, but they just aren’t funny. It's frustrating, to say the least.

70s Hollywood has always had a certain nostalgic-for-a-time-I-didn’t-live-in kind of draw for me. In reality, it was a complete cesspool of exploitation, backstabbing, and misogyny—so, ya know, nothing has changed—but it just seems like it would be awesome to smoke cigarette after cigarette under the palms and the bright sun.

It’s the right setting for a pulpy, gritty noir centered around the porn industry, but director Shane Black doesn’t seem interested in really plumbing its depths or exploring its nuances; it’s more like a skin in a video game than a true setting.

This movie also does the same thing as No Sudden Move, where it’s an underworld crime story that ends up revolving around the car industry suppressing information about the catalytic converter. What is it with filmmakers in the twilights of their careers writing movies about the history of the goddamn catalytic converter? Is that a popular topic at LA dinner parties or something? Because I guarantee you that no one in the audience gives a shit.

I don’t know if maybe I went into this with too high of expectations, but they certainly were not met. There was so much potential for a more interesting story with funnier bits and more exciting action scenes, but that potential was not realized at all.

At least this was no The Predator—as in, I didn’t spend the whole movie praying for the sweet release of death. So I guess that’s one tally in the positive column.