In Saint John of Las Vegas John Alighieri (Steve Buscemi) is a compulsive ex-gambler who had a bit of luck in Las Vegas once.Then his luck ran out, and he found himself driving as far away from Sin City as his last tank of gas would take him. Still wrestling with his addiction and searching for a new sense of purpose in Albuquerque, John instigates a romantic liaison with his coworker Jill (a surprisingly pleasant Sarah Silverman) the same day he finally gains the confidence to seek out a raise.

Instead of an increase in pay John's boss, Mr. Townsend (played by Peter Dinklage), promotes him to fraud investigator. This new job requires John to shadow seasoned fraud employee, Virgil (Romany Malco) on an investigation to disprove an insurance claim for $200,000 in lost wages filed by a now wheelchair-bound stripper, Tasti D Lite (Emmanuelle Chriqui). The plot follows John and Virgil on their journey in the desert outside of Las Vegas where John gains the strength he needs to continue on the path of his new life while the temptation of his former one looms in the distance.

CRIPPLED STRIPPERS AND FLAMING CARNIES AFTER THE JUMP. 

If first-time writer and director Hue Rhodes had had enough experience to execute a clear, strong story with this film, his effort could have been pretty charming.There are a few cinematic bright spots with regards to the minimal screen time reserved for John and Jill's burgeoning romantic relationship and a very bizarre scene involving a "carnie," a malfunctioning fire suit, and cigarettes. The script's inspiration from Dante's Divine Comedy makes for an interesting plot device, andBuscemi and Malco thrive together on screen. It's just a shame that an inherently flawed script is unable to provide its leads with more fodder for conflict and reconciliation--or even a few laughs along the way.

Rhodes just never gets comfortable in his direction. Instead he brushes and jumbles through the text in a race to a disappointing conclusion. When a film contains a moment when a stripper in a wheelchair attempts to give Steve Buscemi's goofy-looking ass a lap dance, and the director refuses to allow that scene the time it needs to either be hilarious, heart-warming, or even the least bit arousing, what chance do the film's less sensational sequences have of leaving an impression on its viewers? 

By the time John reaches his journey's end (or is it a beginning?), the audience is left with so many unanswered questions that (surprisingly) have nothing to do with what they witnessed in the strip club. They don't even have a reason to care that John has learned a very important lesson about what luck means in his life. The fairly random dream sequences interspersed throughout the film serve no purpose other than to drive home the point that John seems to be on a metaphysical journey as well (just like Dante Alighieri--get it?).

A great cast and a clever concept certainly set this project up for success. Unfortunately Rhodes is never able to decide what he wants his film to accomplish. Instead, the audience is dragged through hell along with John and Virgil in this detached, unfunny, and muddled journey.

--Jessica Hixson